The Collinsport Chronicles XXIV: THE SHIP
by Maryland Rose
Summary: The Collins family long time ago traded slaves among other commodities. This forgotten past comes back to haunt the present.
1. Chapter 1

The Mob has been run out of Collinsport. Derek has been hurt, but recovered. Herb Miller was killed, and Sandy may return to claim her children. Delia and Violet are fully in the power of the magical whip that Delia stole from Wyncliffe. An FBI man may remember more than he should about Collinsport. Barnabas now has Urien, the street child that George picked up, at his Old House, at Willie's old job.

* * *

Chapter 1

"Kingsley is at the hospital, after he collapsed last night." Barnabas told George.

"I imagine. He was feeling run down a few days ago. He thought he was feeling better, and he pushed himself for the raid. Then he went to celebrate. It was too much for his system."

"Of course, the fact that Julia and Megan are in his room has nothing to do with it?"

"That's the official version and I am sticking to it. After all, I wasn't there when he collapsed... I think they may be testing for Legionnaire's disease.."

"In the meantime Megan and Julia are making him forget inconvenient facts" Barnabas said ironically "How much is Megan charging you for cleaning up this mess?"

"She might charge Torrance since it was his bright idea to hire Pearce... but she decided to bill Maggie. This comes under the heading of damage control. Maggie will be glad to pay not to have the FBI look at her hometown."

"Yes. I imagine."

"It is the best solution after Torrance's bring idea. But I really can't complain about it. That's how we found Pearce after he was shot. Got any news about Miller's children?"

"Yes Sandy is coming back for them

"Is Chris coming with her?"

"No. They have split up. Poor Chris." Barnabas shook his head. "she took him as a consolation prize because I would not have her. Now... now maybe she'll try her luck again with me."

"Should I worry about her luring you away?"

"Not at all. But I would worry about the trouble she could cause."

* * *

Curt Kingsley rested on the bed, relaxed, his eyes closed, breathing in a steady rhythm.

"Can you make him forget about Derek completely?" Megan asked Julia.

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that yes, I can make him forget. But no, I can't tell you how long it will hold."

"Which means that I might have to make regular trips to DC to keep him in line. And wherever they might transfer him."

"I do not think that you'd mind trips to DC that much, considering the business you have there."

"No, it is not the trips, it just that it might mean rearranging my schedule more than once. Well," she shrugged "if it is the best you can do, it is the best you can do. I'll figure out a way around it."

* * *

Urien had gotten up, ready for the tasks for the day. But wondering if he could go out to the beach. Now, but later when it was warmer. Certainly Barnabas had not forbidden him to do it. He had only forbidden him to try to sell himself.

But what was the point of going to the beach and exhibiting his body in trunks if he could not pick up some cash by it?

Again he heard Barnabas' voice in his mind.

"If you need cash, tell me. You can always work part-time at the A&P. And it is time that you learned how to budget money."

Lecturing, as always... that was the only think that he knew how to do, it seemed.

Who asked him anything? Did he ask to be "rescued"? He was doing all right, wasn't he?

No, he was not. It had been a lousy life. Sure, you had money that way. But it could get tough and nasty, too... some of the things that you had to do for money...

Here he had room and board. And decent, too. The Old House was an odd place, but it was far from being a slum. The food was good, and he had pocket money. All he had to do was keep then place reasonably clean and listen to Barnabas' tirades.

And take reading lessons.

Damn it! He was even beginning to make sense of letters and numbers.

Did he want that? He had always said that he could not read, and that was it. He had prided himself in his ability to manage without it. And now...

Now it did not look so smart to him. It actually seemed dumb. He could have saved himself so much trouble if he had tried a bit harder.

Suddenly he hated Barnabas for it, for showing him up that way.

He heard the steps coming and tensed up. It could not be Barnabas, not in daytime. Nor Sheriff Brant who had not yet been discharged from the hospital.

It was Willie.

"Do you think that Barnabas can take care of Pearl tonight?" Willie asked softly, trying to put Urien at ease.

"Yes. I think it is possible" Urien answered trying to be polite, as Barnabas was teaching him to. Still he could not hide his distaste.

"You don't like taking care of babies?" Willie asked.

"It... It is women's work!" Urien blurted.

Willie guffawed

"What's so funny about it?" Urien asked angrily.

"That _you_ said that. After all, you have played that side of the bed for quite a while."

"I... I did not.! And it is not the same thing!"

"No, it is much worse. I can remember the way you used to sway your hips in my direction. Now you act all macho. Who are you trying to kid?"

"I...I am not."

"You got quite a bit to learn yet, kid. How do you like your job here?"

"Not bad."

Not bad, eh?" You don't know how lucky you are" and to himself he added "I wish I had been so lucky as you."

* * *

Iris wondered about Violet. Did she seem to have second thoughts about her relationship with Delia? They had talked on the phone and that was the impression she got.

"You think that it is wrong what we do?" Violet had asked her, a bit defensively.

"I think that Delia is not for you."

"Why? Because she's not a man?"

"None of the men you picked were precisely winners." Iris said amiably "I wish that I could say that Delia's better, but there is something about her.. I think that she may be unstable. She may be wrong for you or Peter."

Violet had not answered immediately. then she finally muttered something that sounded that Iris had a point.

Maybe if she saw Violet face to face she could convince her to leave Delia.

* * *

Soon it would be dusk and she would be able to talk to Barnabas. But Oriana wasn't sure that she wanted to. She had ended their relationship abruptly and she did not want to explain why she had done so.

She had come to Collinsport for a story. Again. The drug bust. That's why she was sitting by Sheriff's Brant bedside, pad in hand.

"Is it a story that you really want?" George asked, more than a bit irritated. He sensed that Oriana might want to take another stab at Barnabas, and he waned to head her off at the pass.

"What else?"

"You could be trying to get back in Barnabas' bed. If you still remember him, that is."

"I remember Barnabas."

"And you think that you can walk in and out of his life like that? You are not doing it with me around."

"Is it your business now?"

"I am his friend."

"Why do you object to his having a bit of fun?"

"Because the aftermath isn't fun." he took a deep breath "But if you want a story on the bust, I am willing to give it to you."

She shrugged "Fair enough."

* * *

"That kid"

"What kid?"

"Urien Yost. Barnabas latest social project."

"What's the matter with him?"

"He thinks that it is not right for him to take care of babies. That it is women's work. As if he had not played the woman in bed as often as he could."

"Maybe he is overcompensating." Louella said softly.

"Overcompensating! My God! It is not bad enough that Barnabas talks like that, you have to do it too."

"He's had a tough time, that kid. And you have to admit that he's lost most of blatant behavior. And he's trying."

Willie growled something. Louella did not understand it, but knew what he meant.

She laughed. "You are jealous, Willie Loomis!"

"Jealous? Me? Of him? Ha! He is not Quentin, that one."

Louella hit him with a pillow. "Dummy! Not jealous of me. Of Barnabas! The kid has your old job, doesn't he?"

"He's not grateful for his chance. I wish that I had what he has!"

"As I said, you are jealous because Barnabas at first never treated you the way he treats him."

"That's nonsense.! What does it have to do?"

"Willie, Willie...Willie."

* * *

He had nearly blown it, when she had said that it was none of his business.

He had almost told her how much of his business it was.

Would it have been so bad if he had?

Yes. Because coming out of the closet meant kissing his job goodbye. And he liked being the sheriff.

And was Barnabas ready to have their relationship become public?

No, he just had to endure all those women throwing themselves at him, and pretend that it did not matter. No matter how much he burned with jealousy, he had to pretend...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Oriana sat in front of Maggie making sure that she would not be dislodged easily from the room. "It would be to your advantage to grant me an interview."

"Why?"

"Because, if you do, I won't be tempted to write about other things."

"Other things?" Maggie's voice held an edge. "I don't take kindly to blackmail."

"Who said blackmail?"

Sabrina cut Maggie off with a gesture. "Do the other things that you can write about have anything to do with Barnabas?"

"Not directly."

"Still, it probably touches him. Yet he is your source. He gave you stories in the past, didn't he? As your source, you are duty-bound to protect him. How do you think the profession would react if you outed your own source?"

"It would not have anything to do with him."

"Are you sure that it is not the FBI agent's illness that you are insinuating? Well, he was attacked by a vampire, and once you uncover one vampire in Collinsport, you uncover them all, including the one you must protect to the point of going to jail rather than revealing his name. Once the other reporters know how you dealt he one who gave you the inside story on the local Democratic party, the Davenport Center, the safe transportation issue for the staff at the shopping center, or the interview with a local Indian shaman, you'll be a pariah. You'll be lucky to end up at the "National Enquire'r."

Oriana went pale, biting her lower lip.

"I think that you should try to bluff someone else."

* * *

"You handled that one well." Maggie acknowledged "I would not have done it so well."

Sabrina smiled. "That's why I am an Investigative Assistant and you are only a US Representative."

Maggie smiled at that. "You are also a good friend. I can use all the friends I can get.."

"Thanks. How about Barnabas? Is he on board?"

"I wonder if he'll remain there."

"Well, your relationships had to change, sooner or alter. Eventually he'd figure out how you exploited him, and he would put an end to it. Be thankful that he wants to remain friends and helping out."

"He has no right to complain. He does owe me, after all."

"I suspect that the statute of limitations ran out on that one. Look he helped you get where you are. Tell me, in your days as a waitress, low in the totem pole, when you had to put up with a lot of garbage, didn't you dream one day of having the power you have now?"

"Yes. But..."

"He helped you get here. He helped give you your heart's desire. That in my book cancels all other debts. Now, if you want to control him I agree. But don't go down memory lane, looking there for reasons to do the things you do. He is useful, and you make use of him. Period."

Maggie shrugged. It was best not to pursue this subject, which was still a sore one for her.

"How's the baby?" she asked Sabrina. "Coming along?"

"As you see." Sabrina patted her belly "Growing."

"What does Chris have to say about it?"

"He's agreed to call the kid his, as long as he can divorce me quietly. We are done, him and I."

"Will he marry Sandy, you think?"

"No. Seems that Sandy left him. She's coming back to pick her kids, now that their father is dead."

"So no chance of you running into him."

"No chance of any of us making a scene..." she shrugged "all right, all the feeling I had for him is not dead... and maybe it is the same with him. But we tried living together and it did not work. I can recognize a dead end when I see one.""

"Well, sooner or later you will get over it. Now to more serious stuff. What is it with the FBI man? All that is said was that he had been sick and that it might be Legionnaire's"

"Well, he was attacked by a vampire. Pearce, who was paid to do so by Torrance. Torrance thought it would be hilarious. So now there is a FBI man who knows that there is at least one vampire in your hometown;. Worse, a vampire who is in the local sheriff's payroll."

"How are they handling it?"

"Julia is making him forget."

"As she made me forget?" there was no mistaking Maggie's meaning. Yes. She had forgotten. And then she had remembered. She wanted something more foolproof than that.

"They said they would do it right this time."

"I wish I had more confidence in Julia. Personally I would prefer something more permanent."

She did not say anymore. Sabrina knew then that Maggie had again handed her the dirty work she paid her so well for.

* * *

"There is a river somewhere/flows through the life/of everyone."

The sea was calm as it advanced inland, pushed by the tide The spray reached his face and he tasted salt. He could sea the white foam shining, made whiter by the contrast with the darkness of the water.

"And if flows through the valleys/and the mountains/ and the meadows of time."

The radio blared behind him as he walked on the beach. First he had taken off his shoes and socks to avoid getting sand in them. Then, from ages past, came to him the memory of how it had felt to walk barefoot in the sand. It had not changed.

"There is a star in the sky/bright in the eyes of everyone."

He had forbidden himself all enjoyment, however innocent after the curse had claimed him. As if that somehow made things right.

Next he undressed. There was no reason why he had to wear a suit in there, in the beach, all alone in the night.

He thought of these last years. He had finally accepted that freedom from the curse was not to be had. But to his surprise, this acceptance had opened a new world to him. The despair was gone. Maybe Megan was right. You could only take so much tragedy, then you started searching for other ways to pass the time.

"Yes, it do/yes, it do/yes, it do."

He wondered if he could swim. He was not sure about that bit about running water, even if, technically, the water in the sea could hardly be said to be running.

He wondered if Megan swam, and if she did, what was the trick in it.

She had been the one to demonstrate to him that his curse did not automatically mean impotence. She had taught him how to take alcohol. She had taught him how to manage. She had given him so much. And what had he given her?

He recognized the feeling. Guilt, useless guilt. He could not change anything by it.

Would he want to? Megan was too good a friend to risk losing. Selfish, but so it was.

He stretched on the sand and let it run through his fingers and toes. It felt so good... it was so beautiful...

He had not felt this good before... not until he had accepted George's love as openly as it was offered... Iris... Oriana... Roxanne... they had been good for him, he had enjoyed their company. Yet something was missing, something he had not realized it until George had given it to him.

They had held back from him, unsure of how much commitment they wanted. And he did not blame them. It was a heavy burden to share. George had not minded and that had made all the difference.

He closed his eyes as he listened to the sound of the waves. The radio had been turned off, taking Roberta Flack with it. He relaxes his muscles one by one... to be able to stay this way, not moving, watching the sky and the sea.

Then the hunger was in him. Not overpowering, but still a reminded of his need. Sighing he got up and decided who it would be.

Frances. It had been more than three months since he had seen her last. And he wanted to see her, anyway. She was always glad to see him.

But she did not look glad when he came in. She looked embarrassed. Not Frances, she could not be afraid of him.

Then she giggled.

He looked down and realized that he had forgotten to get dressed again.

* * *

Julia felt tired. The FBI man was a tough nut to crack. Thank God she had Megan's help.

But it was daytime, and she had to do it alone.

The door creaked. "Kenneth?" she asked.

"It's me, doctor. Sabrina."

"Sabrina." he turned to face her.

"I came to talk to you about our friend here." she indicated Kingsley, sleeping in his bed.

"I am taking care of him."

"Yes. George told me about it."

"The situation is under control, if that is what worries you."

"I'd like to have it settled permanently."

Julia stared at her, not sure of her meaning."

"What stuff did you and Barnabas used on Woodard?"

Julia blanched. "You won't get it from me."

"Why not? You gave it to Barnabas."

"It is wrong..."

"It was wrong the first time, yet you did it anyway. Are you going to get squeamish now? I promise that no suspicion will attach to you. I will do it in DC, so that nothing will connect you to it."

"I won't do it."

"Why? Because I don't arouse your lust the way Barnabas did? You did it for him. You might as well do it for Maggie."

"I will not do it, and that's final."

"Have you thought of what might happens if he remembers? Do you want all this stuff to come out? You might lose Wyncliffe, your license, might even find yourself on trial for murder."

"No!."

"Your only safety is to do what I ask Give it to me. You won't need to know anything about it."

"I will not" Julia said, even as her insides were turning to water. She had already been thinking around Sabrina's lines, she realized with shame.

No, she would not do it.

"I'll let you think about it, doctor. Give me a call when you decide to be sensible."

* * *

"Will you stop trying to run my life!" Violet shouted at Iris.

"Darling, I only want to help you. I came because you asked me."

"You and mother! Always interfering! I never did anything good enough for her. You were always the bright one, the one who always had it easy!"

Iris sighed. She had heard that too many times. Maybe Violet had a point. Her parents had preferred her over the insignificant looking younger sister. But there had been plenty of time for Violet to outgrow that.

But she hadn't Each time she tried to talk to her it came to the same thing: "Mother always liked you best."

"Violet, you must try to talk like an adult."

"Don't lecture me! I have enough of that!

"I am not trying to lecture you. I just wanted to talk to you. I thought we could.

"I know what you thought. Well, I've had enough of it. I will make sure you never do it again.

"Violet, if I have offended you, I did not mean to."

"Oh, you mean it, all right." there was an ugly expression in Violet's face "but you won't do it again."

"Violet..."

There was a swooshing sound behind her. She turned, and there was Delia, whip in hand.

"Delia?" she asked in surprise. Violet had said that Delia was not home when she came in.

The whip wrapped itself around her neck, making her fall.

Then Violet was on her, tearing at her hair.

"Leave that." Delia said, holding the whip tightly around Iris' neck, choking her into unconsciousness. Just tie her up, and make ready for _him._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Consciousness returned slowly to Iris. The firsts thing she was aware of was the pain on her wrists.

"What were you saying about me?" Delia taunted her. "That I am crazy and cannot be trusted?"

Iris opened her eyes. Delia stood in front of her, a whip coiled in her hand. Behind her stood Violet, naked.

"Violet" Iris was shocked. "She got you involved in this?"

"You don't tell me what to do anymore." Violet said.

"You have been trying to make trouble for us." Delia continued. "trying to get the sheriff to interfere. We cannot have that, you understand. So you are going to leave town."

"I will not."

"You will. Everyone will believe you went to Augusta. You go there often, don't you? But you'll be taking a longer trip than that."

"You won't get away with it."

"We will."

Delia gestured to Violet who pulled up he rope from which Iris was hanging by the wrists until her feet no longer touched the floor.

Iris screamed.

"That's high enough" Delia said.

* * *

She wished she did not have it in her mind, but it was there.

Kingsley resisted her efforts. She was making headway, yes, but it was not good enough. He would leave town, and begin to remember...

...She need not known anything about it...

Lord! How could she ever think of it!

But she did.

She went to her medicine cabinet, shivering. She took out the bottle and studied it.

No, she could not. Once had been enough. Had been too much...

"You might find yourself in trial for murder...

"Julia" she heard Barnabas' voice from far, far away. "I want to ask your opinion..."

She turned and he gasped when he saw her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Sabrina... " she hesitated for a couple of moments, then told him the whole story.

"You didn't" he stated, more than asked.

"No. But I have been tempted. You know what might happen if he does not forget."

"I will not accept it."

"You were quite willing to do it once."

"Yes. And I know what price you and I paid for it. I don't care to pay it again. I don't want you to pay it again. For nothing in the world I will go through that pain again. Specially for this jerk's sake. He is a jerk, you know."

"Still, Sabrina has a point."

"We could try a different approach."

"Do you have any ideas.?"

He thought about it. "There is a way. Not to make him forget so much as _want_ to forget. I might need Angelique's help for it, thought."

"And Sabrina."

"Stall her for one more day. By tomorrow night I will have dealt with her."

* * *

Urien followed the letters on the page with difficulty as he sipped his soft drink.

Munching on his hamburger he recalled Barnabas' tirade about junk food and the need for a balanced diet. As if you could call Barnabas' diet a balanced one...

But, damn it, he was finally making sense of those letters and words. He was missing some of them, of course, but he could ask for help later on. The important thing was that he was finally making it.

He realized that it had been quite a while since he had looked for someone so as to get a place to sleep at night. He did not miss any of it now. He was out of it, and glad.

For the first time he did not need to worry about it. He was free...

It could not be, an instinct deep in his said. He would never be free...

But maybe, just maybe...

He would never have to hustle again. He was even learning how to read. Who knew what else he could do?

Urien Yost. His name was a joke. His whole life had been a joke.

But now it all changed...

He took another bite of his hamburger. He reminded himself that as soon as his lunch was over, he had to go back to the masonry job that Barnabas had given him. But not yet. He could enjoy himself a few minutes more.

* * *

Sabrina looked at her watch. Barnabas better be here quick. Granted that he had other things to attend to, still, if he said to be there as early as possible, he should be too. Her time was valuable to.

She looked at Urien. He seemed somewhat out of breath, as if he had been working real hard.

"Barnabas keeps you busy, I bet."

"I can't complain."

"What kind of work were you doing? Anything to do with masonry?"

"How... how did you know?"

"You got the stuff all over your clothes."

"Well, I had to plug some holes in the walls."

He might have said more, but Barnabas' arrival put a stop to it.

"I got your message" she said. "You said it was urgent."

"It is. Julia told me what you asked of her."

"Just the same you did."

"Yes, the same." he paused "And I had to live with the consequences. I had to see Julia going to pieces. I had to consider the possibility that she might kill herself. To this day I can't hear the tune of 'Killing me softly' without shivering. Do you want that to happen to you? It hurts, Sabrina, it hurts terribly. And soon you will be a mother. Do you want your child to share in it?"

"It will not happen?"

"One day it will return to haunt you. If got off easily, but you might not. Maggie could weaken, or Julia. What will you do then? What will you be tempted to do?"

"I will manage."

"It will happen. And if Julia is hurt again I will not like it."

"If she is hurt, it will be your fault. You are the one who started it."

Barnabas looked at her. Pregnancy had made her look softer. But only look. She had already disposed of Sister Kira. She had deep-sixed him, and that ruthlessness remained. She could be neither bought nor scared away.

"I have to stop you." he said quietly.

"You will not harm me. Not now that I am carrying an child."

'No. Not harm." he made a sign to Urien "But there are other ways."

Urien caught her from behind. Sabrina turned, more surprised than angry. Barnabas caught her by the throat. He pressed he carotids. That would render unconscious quickly, so that he could finish what he had planned for her.

She slumped to the floor. He lifted her and carried her down to the cellar.

There he put her inside the cell, and locked the door on her.

"You stay here and take care of her when she wakes up. Keep her as comfortable as possible, but don't open the door. You do, and she'll overpower you. Don't think that because she is a woman and pregnant that she cannot take you. She can. She is that good."

* * *

Sabrina came to slowly. When she did, she knew what Barnabas had done to her.

She got up from the cot and studied the cell. Probably it was the same one which had held Maggie long ago.

She went to the spot that Maggie had described as leading to the secret passage. She began pushing at the bricks. But the did not move. There was fresh mortar in them.

So that was what Urien had been doing. Sealing off the escape route.

More irritated than discouraged she looked around. She might be able to pick the lock. Or trick Urien. Better wait until dawn, though. Urien alone would be easier to handle than the two of them together. She could get to him. He probably had a record and could be scared with the prospect of being sent to a reformatory if he did not let her out..

She moved to the table and found the note on top of it.

It was from Barnabas. It figured.

"Dear Sabrina.

"I hope that I was not too rough in handling you. Try to make yourself comfortable while I handle our problem. I promise that you won't have any trouble afterwards. And he won't be harmed, either. I can't allow that, for Julia's sake.

"I know that you accommodations leave a lot to be desired, but I told Urien to tend to you. He does not have the key, so don't try to convince him to let you out.

"Spending some time here won't be so terrible, And anyway, I owe you for the time you forced me into he Parallel Time room."

"I bet that you are angry now, but a few years from now you will be grateful for what I spared you from. Your child deserves better than a killer for a mother.

"So take it easy. And anything you need, ask Urien for I. I will let you out as soon as I am done.

"Wait for me

"Barnabas."

* * *

"Can you fashion for me a realistic dream? Like the ones from the Dream Curse?" Barnabas' tone was casual, no trace of complaint or condemnation in his words.

Still, Angelique was embarrassed by this mention of her past misdeeds. "I might. What do you want, and why?"

"I need a very realistic dream for the FBI man."

"It is Megan's case. She and Julia are doing it."

"It is not working very well, and Sabrina wants to handle it permanently. I want to save his life."

"So you want a foolproof method?"

"Yes. I want him _not_ wanting to remember. I want him thinking that remembering will bring up something he'd rather not know about himself, something shameful. I want him putting all of his own energies into forgetting."

"Yes, make him do the work.. yes, that might work."

"Can you do it now? The sooner it is done, the sooner we can get Sabrina out of our hair, and Kingsley out of the hospital."

She hesitated for a few seconds, then turned to Sebastian, who had finished clearing the table.

"Sebastian, I have to go now" she said softly, almost apologetically.

"It is all right." Sebastian said "I will wait for you."

The expression in Sebastian's face puzzled Barnabas. Was it affection of did he detect an edge there?

Angelique drove as Barnabas explained the particulars of the case.

"It has to be a subtle job. "

"Yes. I can do subtle, too." she smiled "Although subtlety is not my forte... I am more of a sledgehammer kind of gal."

They talked a bit more, and Barnabas manage to steer the conversation to Sebastian. "He puzzles me." he admitted. "He makes me uneasy... perhaps it has to do with my guilt feeling about Roxanne.. but I bet that he had unresolved feelings about her, too. And him being with you may not help him resolve them..."

"We all have unresolved feelings, and we have to work through them. One day at a time."

"Still. I did not realize that he wanted to be a house-husband."

Angelique laughed. "You still have some prejudices to get rid of. He likes doing it. At home he has more time for astrology studies. He does some freelance work and is slowly building up a clientele and reputation. Now he's doing some work for Davenport."

"Xavier? Let me guess, it has to do with UFOs. right?"

"Yes."

Well, Xavier was back at it. As long as the Center prospered and provided employment opportunities he should not complain.

"Well, maybe he'd find something."

Angelique frowned. "There is not need to patronize Sebastian, you now."

* * *

Yolanda entered he room. She was so tired... she did not know that being a governess could be so much work. Edmund never seemed to get tired...

If she had known, would she had come to Collinsport, just because of those anonymous letters?

It had seemed so exciting, so much like a novel. And if it worked right, she would get her money, the money stolen by that adventuress who had married her uncle.

But now, with aching feet, she wondered if it was worth it. Yes, Uncle Schuyller had died here, a suicide, of so they said.. But apart from that?

No one in Collinsport seemed to know anything. Or if they did, they did not care to comment on it.

Quentin Collins might tell her something. She might get something out of him, if nothing else, because he was a tomcat who could not leave anything in skirts pass him by. Or Roger Collins might talk... if you could trust anything that he said.

Carolyn Collins seemed to be the last person to share confidences with a servant, even governess. She might, given time, but not now...

She had the sneaking suspicion that the anonymous letters were a trick Carolyn Collins used to lure unsuspecting girls to come work at substandard wages.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The small ship floated on the bathtub while Delia tried to create waves by stirring the water with her hand.

"He's not coming" Violet said with disappointment.

"He will" Delia insisted. "he has to."

Violet looked at Iris, tightly bound and lying on the floor. "Why not just drown her?"

"Because what would we do with the body afterwards? And we have promised _him_ bodies, and she is the first payment."

"But _he_'s not coming. And we have to get rid of her."

"Give me the whip!"

"The whip.." There was fear in Violet's voice.

"Yes. the whip must be fed. Take off your blouse and turn around."

Violet, trembling, pointed to Iris. Why not her?"

"They may not take her if she is marked."

Violet did not protest anymore. She did as Delia commanded and stood with her bared back, eyes closed, and teeth gritting.

The lash fell on her back, drawing blood.

"This should be enough" Delia said "Put on your blouse again."

Delia sank the bloodied whip in the water. She seemed to be talking in a low voice and listening to someone else's words.

She got up. "She is of the wrong color, they said. But they will take her if I can send a nigger to them."

"A nigger?"

"We are going to need Tammy Innes."

* * *

"So you think that you can do better than me?" Megan asked with skepticism.

"I thought of a new approach, with Angelique. Don't feel bad, Megan. This is something that, as a practicing psychologist I know a bit more than you do."

"Practicing, ha!" Julia snorted " You don't even have a degree."

"Sabrina is breathing down our necks. And it is not working." Megan admitted. "If you think you can do better, go ahead."

Barnabas met the man's eyes. Third time he was going be bitten by a vampire. He might by now be wondering whether there were Collinsport residents who were _not_ vampires...

But he needed to create the mental bond with him, the conduit by which Angelique could plant her vivid dreams and make them reality.

"Don't be afraid." he told Kingsley "I will not hurt you."

The man of course did not believe him. But he was weak and drugged, so he had no problem getting to the vein. He drank enough to create the conduit, then withdrew.

He had to admit that he did not like the man much. George had called him a jerk and worse, and he could see why. But he felt sorry for his predicament. And he was helping him, keeping him from being murdered by Sabrina.

All of Kingsley was open to him. He had to admit that he did not like what he found in him. But nothing that would deserve a death sentence. Just because he man had voted for Regan and supported enthusiastically his policies was no reason to turn him over Sabrina's tender mercies...

"Well, the conduit is made." he told Angelique. "You can now work on him."

* * *

Roger stood pensively in his room. There was something wrong about Yolanda Oates. There was something in her that did not ring true.

But how could he convince Carolyn of that? The sad truth was that his niece no longer paid attention to anything he said. She still believed him to be prey of delusions.

Yet he was right. As he had been right about Nixon.

He had not worried much about Nixon, lately. He had been too busy taking care of Edmund.

The idea of that impostor teaching Edmund... it should not be this way... He could not allow it.

* * *

Kingsley was floating in something that was not precisely water. It was less solid, less material than water and he could not find a name for it... He was weightless and without then will to move his limbs.

Lights flared around him, then figures could be seen, only they did not stand still long enough to identify them.

Then the fanged mouth came down on him. He could not scream, only shiver. The mouth grew huge and he was pulled towards it. He fell in.

It was dark and he could feel the walls narrowing around him.

Suddenly there was light. He stopped falling and was on firm ground again.

Derek Pearce was there. Naked and giggling.

"So you are here, sweetie." Derek said "I missed you."

Derek got up and came to him, mincing walk, limp wrist and all. "What is it, love?" he asked.

"Don't call me love!" Kingsley shouted.

"Don't you remember the fun we had?"

"We never did! You attacked me, you..."

"Attacked? Love, you wanted it as much as I did."

"You...you are a vampire. All you did was take blood from me!"

Derek laughed, and his mouth, now that he could see it, was innocent of fangs..

"Oh, yes. I remember the game we played." Derek put his hand around Kingsley's waist. "it was fun, wasn't it?"

"No!" Kingsley pulled himself away from Derek violently and ran.

Right into Barnabas' arms.

"Love" Barnabas said. "It's been a while, is it not?"

"I... I don't know you! Let me go!"

"Don't say that! I might believe it one day and you don't want that."

Suddenly his body refused to obey him. He felt his mouth twist into a smile, felt himself answer words that he did not want to say. he heard himself giggling stupidly.

And both Barnabas and Derek were kissing him now.

* * *

Barnabas watched Kingsley beat his head against the pillow.

"What did you do?" he asked Angelique.

"Just what you told me. Making him want to forget. From the impression I got of him I figured to that the think to do was to make him believe that what happened with Derek was an homosexual encounter and he's so terrified of it that he'll suppress any memories connected with it from now on."

Barnabas grimaced. "I don't like it."

"It will do the job. He'll be willing to tell himself that all that Derek did was wave him from across the street."

"It does not seem the right thing to threaten someone with. "Barnabas said with distaste. "He probably sees Derek with a limp wrist."

"As a matter of fact. He does. I am not educating him about homosexuality. I am making him forget so that Sabrina will let him live.

"You are right. That's all I asked you to do."

* * *

Sabrina was not in a conciliatory mood when he released her.

"Just what did you think you were doing?"

"Keeping you and Maggie out of trouble. Fixing the problem for you, and making sure you do not anything as dumb as kill a Federal agent."

"You think that you solved the problem?"

"I know I did. He won't remember any of it."

"Same as Maggie did not remember?"

"Much better."

He told her what eh and Angelique had done. In spite of herself, Sabrina had to admit that the idea had merit.

"But still you kidnapped me."

"Years from now you will thank me for it. Take it from me, when you kill somebody, you die inside a bit."

"I have already killed Kira Petofi."

"And you don't need more corpses. They can tear you up inside. Julia and I can tell you how bad it can get. Your child deserves better than that."

* * *

Iris tried to crawl on her stomach, her bindings cutting her painfully as she moved. She had to get out of this house, get help... that her own sister would do this...

Constant rubbing against the floor had somewhat loosened the gag. Now it was the narrow part of the cloth that was wedged between her teeth.

Peter was watching her, his eyes moist and his lips trembling.

She gestured to him with her head, trying to get him to come to he.

Peter did not move. She tried calling him. Talking was difficult but not impossible. It sounded somehow like 'Peter', what came out. She asked him to release her.

He still did not move. Maybe he did not understand her.

With effort she raised herself on her knees and shook her head in his direction.

Peter still did not react.

He tried walking on her knees, trying to reach him.

But as she got closer, Peter jumped out of the way, fear in his face.

He was terrified. He had been told not to get close to her and was afraid to disobey.

Remembering how spoiled Peter had been Iris felt dismay. What had they done to break him so completely? She thought of the whip that Delia carried. They would not use that on the boy...

They had. She could see the beginnings of scars creeping up to the neck from under the collar...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"I wondered what happened to you." Maggie told her.

Sabrina was amused "What do you think happened? Barnabas kidnapped me and put me in your old cell. He also had the secret passage sealed off. So I had to wait until he released me."

Maggie was alarmed "Why did he do it?"

"To stop me from doing anything tot he FBI man. Keeping me honest, as it were."

Maggie shook her head. "This is going to be too much. Something must be done about him and his tendency to interfere."

"In this case it came out OK. He did handle the FBI man. He explained how he did it, and it will work. And we two are not connected in any way, which is all to the good."

"How did he handle it?"

"He made Angelique make the man believe that what happened with Derek was a homosexual encounter. Something that the man will be desperate to forget, and pretend never happened."

"Yes, it might work" Maggie said, reluctantly "still I do not like him kidnapping my staff."

Sabrina shrugged "I don't like it, but it comes with the territory."

"And it will hold?"

"Megan will be checking up on him regularly, to be on the safe side. But I do not see any more problems."

"Still, I have to tell Barnabas a thing or two."

* * *

She was back in Collinsport...

Her children were here. How long since she had seen them? Why had he left them? Why had she let Herbert have them without a fight?

She would claim them, and would never let them go again. And if anyone tried to get her to abandoned them... if anyone came between her and the kids...

How could he have let them convince her? Megan, Chris. Barnabas... it was their fault. Why had she listened to them?

* * *

Maggie would not let it lie down like that. She certainly would let Barnabas know what she though about his treatment of Sabrina.

Her common sense was trying to reassert itself. Sabrina had not been hurt. The FBI problem had been solved. Wasn't that what they wanted?

But how dare Barnabas treat Sabrina that way?

So she went to the Old House, ready for a fight. Barnabas, reading by the fire when she came in, was surprised to see her come in at that hour.

"Maggie" Barnabas smiled sadly as he greeted her. He knew why she had come, and it was not to thank him.

"All right, let's skip the pleasantries. What right did you have to do that to Sabrina?"

"I am Julia's friend. I had the duty to keep her from being hurt."

"She wouldn't be hurt now if it had not been for you. You started this business."

"Granted. But because I started it does not give you the right to continue it. Once was bad enough."

"And you even sound morally outraged. As if I did not know you better."

Barnabas felt a bit of disgust. "Are you serious about trashing that old stuff?"

"Old stuff? Is that what you call it?"

"Take your own advice. If you are angry, go to the gym and kick a ball. If you are moody, go to the karaoke bar, and sing sad songs. If you cannot sleep, take a pill.. And do not mention stuff that can cost you the Senate seat. If the advice is good for me, it is good for you. Do not do or say anything that might bring Drew Harrison to mind."

"And because of that I am supposed to let you kidnap my staff?"

"And I am supposed to let you destroy Julia? No, Maggie. You have to decide. You want to get even with me, do so. You want your political career, go for it. But you cannot have both. I am willing to deal with you, but I will not discuss stuff that you yourself said is out of the question. And I will not be manipulated through guilt, either. I will not do things that I know are wrong because you work on my guilt feelings. "

"So?"

"So, the FBI man will give you no more problems. You can finish what you had to do here, and go back to DC, to your job, which you do well. And do not play games with me, that can get out of control."

* * *

It was early in the morning, quite early, when Yolanda opened the drawers of the desk. It was in one of those drawers, she had been told that there was evidence that Cassandra Blair Collins was in fact Angelique Duval Rumson. And that she had been legally married to Roger Collins when she married Uncle Schuyller, thus making her a bigamist, and unable to inherit the Rumsen estate.

It was not just greed that pushed her, Yolanda thought., It was justice. Angelique was not entitled to a single penny of it.

But where could that evidence be? Was it possible that Roger Collins did not leave any mementoes of his second marriage? Wasn't there anything signed by her? Anything that might have her fingerprints?..

... If only she knew where to look...

She realized that she was being watched. She turned around quickly to see who it was.

Roger Collins stood there, his hands forming into fists.

"Mr. Collins." she said "you startled me."

"What are you looking for?" Roger said with quiet fury.

"Edmund has misplaced a couple of notebooks. He might have put them in some drawer. He does that. He hides them, so that he has an excuse not to do homework."

"Is that so? Or are you looking for something else?"

"It is a bad habit of Edmund's He likes to goof off."

Roger moved closer to her, menacingly. "Tell me the truth. What are you looking for? Who hired you?"

"Mrs. Collins hired me." she tried to sound reasonable. She knew she had to get out of there fast. Roger was just too unpredictable...

"You lied to us." Roger continued. ":Who sent you here?"

"I don't understand..."

"Don't bother lying anymore. I know what you are and I have a good idea what you are looking for"

Just in time, Carolyn came in

"Uncle Roger!" she reproved him. "what do you think you are doing?"

"She's a spy, I tell you."

"She's not. Stop making an ass of yourself."

He grumbled, but he gave in. "I wish I could convince you" he said, miserably.

"Who could she be spying for?" Carolyn said calmly. She did not feel calm. She regretted now having bribed Dr. Rossi to get Roger discharged before he was cured. If she had not been so stubborn, she would not have these headaches now...

"You don't understand. It is the same thing they did to Nixon..."

"I don't think that Miss Oates had anything to do with that. I can only hope that she will not leave because of the scare you gave her. Getting a good governess is not that easy."

* * *

Peter sat very still, watching her struggle ineffectively. There was fear in him, but also a ghastly amusement. At least it was not him who got it this time. It was going to be Aunt Iris. They said that it he was a good boy and helped guard her, he would not be beaten, and might even get a treat.

He tried to be a good boy now. He did all he was asked. Yet there were times when he was not good enough...

He was going to do this one right. If Aunt Iris had been bad, then he would help punish her. Then they'd see what a good boy he was.

The door opened and Delia came in. "Peter." she said. "come here."

Peter obeyed quickly

"That's a good boy." Delia said "You haven't touched her, have you?"

Peter shook his head.

"She wanted you to release her, didn't she?"

Peter nodded.

"But you didn't. You were a good boy, and did as you were told."

"Yes." Peter said. "I was a good boy."

"Good. You can go now."

Delia looked at Iris. "Still struggling, eh? It won't do you any good. You are going away as soon as we arrange it."

She left the room to where Violet was getting ready.

"I don't like this." Violet complained. "It is too risky. Tammy's absence will not as easily explained as Iris's"

"She will vanish without a trace. Hurry up. We can't keep Iris like this forever. Let's go get Tammy and stop your whining.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Do you think that it will be safe?" Violet asked as had been doing ever since Delia had come up with the plan. while they got the laundry truck and other supplies.

Delia could not hide her irritation. "Of course it will be. Unless you do something wrong. Get yourself together. We have a nigger to catch."

* * *

She had come with her paints box and easel to stare at the sea. The waves beat relentlessly against the rocks and the sound they made were almost a lullaby to ther.

But she wouldn't be soothed. She would keep the memories kin her. She would hold on to her pain, for one day she would find the way to hurt them back. Same as Marta and Esteban had been. To hurt them until they begged her to stop and she would not...

But the moment hadn't come, yet. It might never come. She might wait forever for it, waiting impotently.

She opened the box of paints. She did not want to think those thoughts. She had to keep her mind busy, and paining was the only way she knew of doing it.

She dipped the brush in the red paint. Red like blood... Like her children's blood... She drew a jagged line across the canvas, like a wound. And another... and another... Stab wounds.

Then the black. And the sickly greens. As a background it would do.

* * *

Tammy finished her lunch, looking at her watch. It was still too early to go back to work, and then it wasn't so terrible if she came in a few minutes late.

But she did not want to be late. She had plenty to do, and while most it was dull compared to her big case, that of Kira Petofi, it was challenging enough, and paid a lot of bills.

At that moment the doorbell rang. It was Delia.

"Miss Harding." Tammy was surprised to see her. "what do you want of me?"

"I need your help."

"You have to contact the agency." Tammy said, politely but firmly. "I don't free-lance."

"It is a very intimate problem. Very personal." Delia moved closer to Tammy.

"Miss Graham has a reputation for discretion. Talk to her."

"Please." Delia moved even closer. "I need to talk to you."

"Why? Why me? Why does it have to be me?'

"It is... a very delicate matter." she gulped "About Pearce."

Tammy shook her head. "Miss Graham helped with him before. She can do it again."

"Please" Delia took Tammy's hand as in supplication.

"Hey! Don't touch me!" Tammy tried to pull her hand away. "What are you doing?"

Delia quickly stabbed the wrist with the hypodermic she held in her other hand. Tammy struggled for a few seconds, then dropped to the floor unconscious

Delia quickly bound her and wrapped her in a sheet to take her into the laundry truck. She and Violet loaded her, quickly into the truck, and Violet drove the truck away.

Delia then went into the bathroom and applied the black make-up to her face and body. She could not pass for Tammy in close inspection. But at a distance, wearing Tammy's clothes, she would make seem as if Tammy had left town.

She hoped that Violet had not panicked and was taking Tammy to join Iris. ... Violet did not do well under pressure...

* * *

Elsa reloaded the camera while Sebastian watched her, somewhat amused.

"You say that Davenport wants photos of UFOs?"

"Yes. and he's willing to pay you for them."

"And where would I have to take them?"

"Oh, you can do it at home, as long as they look real enough. Use round objects and make sure that the wires don't show."

"But that would be cheating! He does not want that! He wants real ones in the photos."

Sebastian shrugged "It might take years until one of them show up. In the meantime the money is there. Think of it as playing a joke on him."

"It is not a joke, It is cheating!"

Sebastian wondered why he was pushing Elsa like this. Was there any sense in letting her know that he did not care for UFO's at all, only Davenport's money?

He needed that money. It was the only thing that kept him from being totally dependent on Angelique. Sure, he had depended on Roxanne, but it had been different with her. Roxanne needed him. And he loved her.

* * *

Yolanda looked behind her. No one seemed to follow her as she took the deserted path. Of course, she could say that she was hiking, or looking for botanical specimens to show to Edmund, or... There were plenty of reasons for a young woman to look around at picturesque sites...

Still, she felt nervous. Roger Collins had penetrated her deception. Luckily Roger's reputation helped her. But still, what Roger observed, others could observe.

And she had to remember that not only had Angelique deceived Uncle Schuyller, but had probably had murdered him.

In novels, it was so romantic. But in reality it could be quite scary... And you could not find those novels in the racks anymore... Now it was just soft porn...

Never mind that. She was finally going to meet the man who had convinced her to come investigate Collinsport and Angelique...

The man came up the path. He was good looking. Dapper and debonair, even if he had hooks instead of hands.

Nicholas saw her come. He counted on her help to locate the mask of Baal that had once belonged to his master, Judah Zachery, and thus inherit Judah's power - The mask would in theory help join Judah's body with his head... if his head had not been reduced to cinders... Nicholas wanted his master's power, not his master...

Now, he had to tell Miss Oates a pretty story so that she did what he wanted her to do.

"Hello, Miss Oates. My name is Nicholas Blair. And we both have accounts to settle with the woman who calls herself Angelique..."

* * *

They were both helpless. Tammy's and Iris' eyes met, communicating their anguish and their anger as Delia towered over them, the huge whip in her hands. Violet stood a few paces behind her, her lips quivering.

Iris looked at her sister. Did Violet regret any of what Delia forced on her?

Once more she tried to plead.. She knew that it was no use. The garbled sounds she managed to make served only to amuse Delia. Still, she had to try.

At her side, Tammy was also trying to free herself. She could see by the tension in her neck how she struggled against her bonds. Uselessly. Delia had plenty of experience tying knots.

Delia lifted the small boat, held it in her hands almost reverently before setting it over the water surface.

"Come master" she said, holding the whip close to her "Come see what we have brought to you."

The scene seemed to shift before Iris' eyes.

She was still on the floor of the bathroom. But she was also somewhere else. On a pier, and a small boat was growing and growing... She could hear voices and a sound like clanking chains.

Then the man was there, in front of Delia and Violet. His clothes were from another century and dirty. He had mocking eyes and a cruel smile.

"You have merchandise this time?' he spoke at last.

"Yes." Delia pointed at Tammy "look at her."

"Indeed" the man pinched and prodded Tammy several times, as if testing the quality of what he had come to buy. "How much do you want for her?"

"Just take her away" Delia pointed to Iris "Take her with you so that we don't see her again."

The man scratched his cheek "I dunno... she is white."

"There will be many in the Berber cost willing to buy a white concubine. Don't tell us that you don't have dealings with them."

The man kept scratching his face, as if thinking. He was quite willing, but still had to go through the bargaining rituals.

"This is the only price I'll accept" Delia said.

The man spread his hands. "All right. I'll take her off your hands."

Two more men were there. They lifted Tammy and carried her to the ship.

"Take her to the hold" he instructed them. "The white one goes to my cabin."

Then Delia and Violet were alone, staring at the small ship floating on the bathtub.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

He was well enough to be out of the hospital. He had been warned to take it easy, and he meant to. But there was something that he had to do. He had to see Derek. Megan's accusation had stung him, because it was all true. He had let Derek walk into danger all by himself, with no backup of any kind. It had been a shabby thing to do.

From now one, he would always know where Derek was. And Derek would know that if he had any trouble that he could call on the sheriff for help... Why had he been so careless? In the cave, he had told Kingsley that Derek was one of his men, wounded in the line of duty... But he would have never abandoned a deputy with no backup and no way to communicate with him.

The landlady made a face when he saw him. She had tried to raise Derek's rent when he had moved his coffin in, complaining that it lowered property values, only to find that you have to get up pretty early to put one over a confirmed jailhouse lawyer.

Derek was washing himself and shaving, a task made more difficult by the uselessness of mirrors. He grunted a welcome to George as he wiped the lather off his face. He was surprised to see him, as George had never come visit him before."

"I owed it to you. You got injured on my behalf. "

"No harm was done."

"No. But you should have been spared those two days calling Kingsley. I should have been the one you called. And I would have come immediately." He unbuttoned his sleeve and pulled it back, exposing the wrist. "From now on I want to be in direct contact with you. Any trouble you get into, I do not want to find out later, when you turn up missing, and I am desperately asking everyone if they saw you. You deserve better than that. You _are_ one of my men, and as such, deserve backup."

Derek did not argue. Yes, it would have been better to have the link with Brant than with Kingsely. He bit into the exposed wrist and drank. As always he did this, he felt the strangeness of it. He was so accustomed to the dried stuff that he was not sure he liked it this way.

"There. Now I feel easier about you." George said pulling his sleeve back.

Derek wiped his mouth and began dressing. He took off his undershirt to put on a clean one.

"What happened to your back?" George asked horrified at the scars. They seemed to be whip marks.

"Oh, this. This is how Delia convinced me never to go near her again." Derek said with a hint of a tremor in his voice.

"How?""

"One day, when I woke up, I found myself weakened, strung up by my wrists, blindfolded, and then she let me have it. warning never to get close to her again."

"And you left her then?"

"Yes. And I am keeping clear of her from now on. She is crazy, and the greater the distance between us, the better."

George looked with horror and disgust at the scars. They were old, but he could still sense the fury behind the whip, the unholy pleasure on somebody else' s suffering..

...And he had mocked Iris for expressing concern about her sister living with... with that monster. He had always known that there was something off about Delia. The violence had been there, the danger could be seen, if you paid attention. She had controlled it most of the time, limiting herself to SM games with consenting partners. But Derek had not consented to this...

"You should sign a complaint against her." he tried to sound normal.

"No." Derek shook his head "She is a respected nurse. I am a petty criminal and informer. I know who the judge will believe. She will say that I was willing, and that I am trying to blackmail her. I know how it works, sheriff."

* * *

Barnabas was surprised at the hostility Sandy showed towards him. He certainly had done nothing to deserve that reaction. He had merely asked for news of Chris and she had lashed out at him.

"You want me to go back to him, you bloodsucking bastard?"

"Sandy...Mrs. Miller.."

"So you finally remembered that I am.. was married and have children."

"I always knew it."

"Did you?" Then why did you make me abandon them?"

"I didn't" Then it hit him. Sandy felt guilty about leaving her children when she had ran away from Herbert. And now, not liking the feeling of guilt, she blamed someone else for it.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Miller" he said, and vanished.

* * *

The stench was unbearable. And the heat. And the chains. There were bodies and bodies stacked in the hold, piled chained together, some barely alive, some already dead.

She was now one of them. And soon she would be as broken down and dejected as them.

They were in the hold, waiting to reach port so they could be sold. Or waiting for death. Those were the two only ways that a nigger left a slave ship.

The filth... how could anyone expect a human being to live like this? Were they supposed to relieve themselves on the spot, like animals? Worse than animals?

This was a slave ship, and she was not human, but cargo. If she had been human, she would have been sent to the captain's cabin as Iris had been.

She could not help resenting Iris' position, even if part of her knew that there was little to envy in it. But at least Iris was not lying in her own filth!

But how could that be possible? How could a slave ship go around openly like that? This was 1981. Yet it was real, not a bad dream.

She was chained in the cargo hold of a slave ship...

* * *

Quentin wondered what Roger was up to. Roger had never liked him, so why act friendly, even to the point of pouring drinks for him?

But it intrigued him, enough to continue the conversation. And as long as the drinks were free...

Finally Roger came to the point. "I need your help" he said.

"What kind of help?"

"I do not trust Miss Oates. I think that she's after something."

Quentin was about to guffaw when he thought better of it. After all, why antagonize Roger, when he could profit by him instead?"

"What do you want me to do about it?" he hoped it was not a request to murder her. God knows that Roger could not keep a secret very well, and if Carolyn found out, she would blame him instead of Roger. He shivered, remembering all that she already had on him.

"Help me get Edmund out of Collinwood. Being legally the father, you can do it."

"Carolyn will object to it."

"We have to do it for Carolyn's sake, too."

Quentin thought about it. "We are going to need money" he said.

"I know. I can get my hands on it."

"I also want my portrait."

Rogers stiffened.

"I am not going to let it stay behind so that Carolyn or Miss Oates can retaliate against me. I am not taking Edmund away without it."

Roger wanted to protest, but he saw Quentin's point. "All right. I'll get it for you."

* * *

"She whipped him. I could see the whip marks. And he was not willing. He is scared of her." George said shocked to Megan. "And I mocked Iris when she was concerned about her sister living with someone like that."

"I did the same.. I dismissed her fears."

"I was so intent on defending gay rights that I forgot my instincts."

"You and me. She came to me for a way to weaken him so that she cold kick him out... That's when she strung him up and whipped him... You said that there are marks on his back?"

"Yes."

"Then, it is worse than you think. The whip is a magical artifact."

"Why?"

"Because if it wasn't the marks would have been long gone. Vampires heal quickly, unless wounded by a magical artifact."

"But Barnabas..."

"Barnabas shuts down the healing process. It is his response to his guilt feelings. He thinks he deserves to suffer, so he unconsciously blocks the healing response of his body. Were it not for that, his wounds would disappear... George, do not take Barnabas as the standard average vampire. He has so many issues and quirks that he cannot be called a typical anything..."

"Is Derek a typical one."

"Neither... You know I wonder if there is a typical vampire at all. We come from human beings, and human beings have quirks and issues. The transformation does not make those issues disappear. It just expresses them in different ways. And since there are not that many of us, it is difficult to say what typical is."

'In any case, Derek's quirks do not include blocking healing of whip marks."

"No. He has not guilt feelings that demand that he suffer... What would he have to feel guilty about? He might keep a scar if it was something that he was proud of, and wanted to brag. But not evidence of having been abused. No, he was whipped by a whip with magical powers."

"Which makes dealing with Delia and Violet urgent business."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He had had time to think it over. Tammy was missing and Megan could not trace it. In Tammy's home there had been, fallen behind a sofa a small package of lubricating gel,. something that a nurse like Delia used regularly.. Iris could not be found, and while she usually went to Augusta, she left a sign on the door of her shop that she was going. There was a magical whip in Delia's possession...

It was reason enough to get into Delia's house. He did not have enough for a search warrant, or did not want to lose time seeing a judge. Suspicion of child abuse could do it.

"I say that you have no right to search this place. You have no warrant" Delia said.

"I only need to look a Peter. We got a call that he might be an endangered child" - Joe had made the call, As a concerned citizen, and of course, he was duty bound to follow it. This gave him a chance to look around for any evidence of Iris of Tammy being there.. A quick look that would give him enough for a warrant... if they did not dispose of the evidence by then...

"You have no right." Delia insisted.

"Let me see Peter, and I'll be gone. You know what we have to investigate those calls. " he tried to sound reasonable. "They got this new ordinance..." That he and Barnabas had pushed for that ordinance was besides the point.

He saw the whip. He looked at it with interest. Could this be the magical whip that had marked Derek? He extended his hand to it.

"It is used only on consenting adults" Delia said.

"I want to make sure of that. And consenting adult or not, I saw what it did to Derek's back."

"Is he complaining?

"No."

"See?"

Violet was standing there, very white, very silent. "You are Peter's mother... are you worried that some of the games may spill on him?"

Violet shook her head.

She was terrified. Of Delia? Or of him? She and Iris never got along...

But what reasons would they have to kidnap Tammy?

He saw a small model ship. It was a curious looking one. He extended his hand to touch it.

"You are not allowed to search this place." Delia reminded him.

"You are right. Let me see Peter and I'll be gone."

He saw frightened eyes peeking from behind the door. Very quiet, holding his breath. Terrified.

This was an abused child, all right.

He went to him. Peter saw him come and ran. He was faster. He caught Peter and pulled up his shirt.

"I thought so." he said. "Consenting adults eh?" He turned to them, gun in hand. "You two are under arrest for child abuse."

* * *

She started a new painting. It had begun as a formless blob, but she saw the spots changing into Marta's face. She could not look at it. She did not want to remember. Not while she was painting.

She covered the face quickly with slashes of black and collapsed on the ground, sobbing.

Marta's eyes could still reach her. They had not been covered with paint. She could not bring herself to close the eyes.

She lifted the hand, tentatively, touching the eyes. The paint was wet. It was like touching tears.

* * *

"I need your help." George told Angelique. "I know that Delia and Violet kidnapped both Iris and Tammy. But I can only detain them for child abuse and they'll make bail any moment. I want to be able to interrogate them. And since there is a magical object involved it has to be a special interrogation. The more time it passes, the less likelihood that we will find them alive. "

"What do you want from me?"

:"I want them to crack up. Start screaming their heads off so that they end up in Wycliffe where Barnabas can interrogate them."

"You are asking me for something that is illegal and even unethical."

"Yes. If I had paid attention to Iris when she first came to me I would not be here, asking you.. I even lectured her! I told her to mind her own business! And that child got whipped with that big black whip... I want them in Wyncliffe so that I can go search the house thoroughly. I will have a proper search warrant, and even if I don't I'll get that whip to show it to you... "

Where is Peter, now?"

"Julia Hoffman has him. She was quite shaken when she saw the scars. As an endangered child, in need of protection, we can interrogate him without a lawyer. Julia can put him under and he can tell us what he witnessed... which is needed to treat him anyway... Angelique, I know that I am crossing the line in more than one way here. But I want to find Iris and Tammy alive. And if I cross the line, I cross the line."

"I agree. You don't want to wait for Megan to wake up?"

"Why? She would probably tell you the same thing. I do not want to wait for the search warrant to come through, and I don't want to wait until dusk. By dusk I want those two in Wyncliffe.. and I want Barnabas working on them,.. And I want answers before dawn."

"All right. I will do it."

* * *

"They are going to search the house." violet said with dismay. "Brant is asking for a search warrant."

"Let them." Delia answered. "they won't find anything. They can't hold us. We will make bail. And we'll get a lawyer to plead to a reduced charge and get out with something like community service. "

"Are you sure?'

"Derek explained it all to me. We might have to let Social Services have Peter... But you never liked the kid, anyway. Reminds you too much of his father."

"You are right." then she shivered "I wonder what happened to them. Iris and Tammy."

"Shut up! You are the one who wanted Iris out of your life!"

* * *

He held the portrait with him. Roger felt misgivings about letting Quentin have it. He had promised Carolyn to keep it safe and now he was betraying that trust.

But the danger to Edmund was too great. He did not want Miss Oates around his child. And if this helped it, he was willing to let Quentin have his freedom.

Quentin was waiting by the car, and Edmund too. He did not know what Uncle Roger wanted, but he was willing to do it. Specially if it meant being away from Miss Oates.

"Have you got it?" Quentin asked Roger.

Roger lifted his package. "It is here."

"Forgive me if I act suspicious" Quentin tore the wrapper a bit to see the withered face within. "Yes. this is it. Let's go."

* * *

She couldn't stand it anymore. She could not lie like this. chained in the filth... She could not stay here..

"No!" she shouted. "I don't belong here!"

She did not. This was the Twentieth Century. The slave trade was over. She should not be her at all.

She hollered and hollered, pulling at her chains, trying to get up.

"Get me out!" she screamed "get me out!"

Then she felt the whip bite into her.

"Shut up, you crazy nigger!" the man said. "shut up!"

She screamed again.

The man was angry. She was making trouble for him. But it was more difficult to whip her lying down like this. With two others, they held her upright so that they could whip her more comfortably.

"I'll teach you to shut up!"

* * *

He opened the door to their cell. "You can go." he said to them.

Delia smiled triumph ally. "I told you that he could not hold us" she told Violet.

Violet trotted after her, like a dutiful dog.

"They got Peter." Violet said behind her.

"No great loss." she shrugged. It was the price to pay for freedom. And for possession of Violet. Because now their crime bound them together... Tonight the whip would feed again, and she would taste its power. And Violet... Violet would submit. She would have to submit from now on.

They reached their cottage. She only had to open the door. She touched the doorknob.

Then the doorknob melted under her fingers. It became mist and enveloped her...

It was a snake now, wrapping itself around her neck, strangling her. She screamed, and tried to pull away.

At her side Violet was screaming too. They were both fighting snakes and screaming. And they kept screaming when the ambulance took the away.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Barnabas gasped when Julia showed her Peter's back.

"The child has been whipped" she said in a low voice.

Joshua had not believed in sparing the rod, but never had he taken the whip to him and Sarah... To beat up a child this way.

"How could they have done it? Delia and Violet... "

"Violet has a lot unresolved issues as an abused woman. She is finally getting revenge on the son of the man who abused her... twisted, but not unheard of. And Delia... I wonder if I did the right thing."

"Delia was your patient, right?"

"Yes. She was. She sought help to cure her of her SM tendencies. She interrupted therapy, against my advice. Unfortunately, you cannot force a patient to continue treatment unless there is a court order. I wonder if I should have even started. There is a nasty streak in her, and her SM games kept it in bounds. Without those bounds, when they came out, they did it with a vengeance."

"Do you want me to help with him?"

"No, you interrogate Delia and Violet. George is sure that they kidnapped Iris and Tammy. See what information you can get from their minds."

"Why show me Peter then?"

"Because you may be tempted to be easy on them. And we need the information, even if it hurts them to get it."

* * *

They were going to search Delia's house, from top to bottom. There was no court order. Instead there was a public health problem. There might be something in there that caused the two women to become raving maniacs, and speed was of the essence in tracking it down.

It might be illegal but the neighbors would to complain, Violet and Delia in Wyncliffe would not, and there would be no criminal charges filed so there would be no lawyers involved...

All scruples that Brant might have evaporated with the memory of Peter's whipped back, and the knowledge that speed was of the essence in finding Iris and Tammy.

He should have acted sooner. Should have listened to Iris... should...

Well, at least he was doing something now.

But if he had reacted like a cop and not a damned ideologue about gay rights whether they applied to the case or not, this would have never happened.

"I know the answers are here" he told Sebastian, who had volunteered his help. "Do your best."

"I will. Thanks, sheriff."

George again wondered what had drawn Sebastian and Angelique together. Love? Need? He wished that he could understand it. And he hoped that this was not a minefield that might go off later on, with plenty of collateral damage.

"There is power here." Sebastian said. "in this room."

George nodded. Sebastian had to do his thing without any hints, which would lead to wrong answers.

"In the bathroom, too." Sebastian added "that's where it happened."

A couple of Hitchcock movies flashed before George's eyes. The bathtub is the best place to stab someone and dismember a body. The blood washes clean and goes down the drain.

"Did they kill them?"

"No."

He moved away, and found the whip. The blood was fresh in it.

"There is power in this whip. Power that calls to power." He took it and used it as a divining rod. It led him to the shelf where the toy ship was.

"It calls to this." he said.

He reached out to pick it up, and the moment he touched it, he collapsed.

George picked the ship up. It did not affect him. But Sebastian had hit pay dirt. He looked at the toy ship. There was a name on it. _Peggy Green._

_Peggy Green?_" it sounded familiar.

Sebastian moaned and he helped him up to a seat. Then he went to the kitchen for a glass of water.. He helped Sebastian drink it, waiting for his agitation to subside. Whatever it was, it had been strong. Sebastian was upset, and he had the same expression on his face as Barnabas when he had come upon some painful memories in the minds he was touching. It was hurting him, the information that he received.

"Take it easy" he said to him. "I know that it is hard. I am lucky that I am deaf and blind to these things, or I could not function as cop. You have it tough. I know how devastating it can be. At least we know that this toy ship was involved. We can take it from here."

"It is a slave ship." Sebastian said. "Belonging to the Collins family."

"This is the model of the ship?"

"No. This is the ship itself. And your missing women are inside."

"How can they fit in here?"

"They are inside. I can feel them."

* * *

Roger looked distrustfully at the motel where Quentin was trying to check them in.

"Why here?"

"What's wrong with a motel?"

"I don't like it. You don't know what might happen."

"For God's sake, Roger. This is reality, not a movie. This is not one of the Norman Bates chain of motels. No one is going to stab you in the shower nor anything.

Roger still did not like it.

"For God's sake, get in. We need a place to sleep."

* * *

"Megan, we got something. It seems that the whip that Delia had is connected to a model ship. Only Sebastian says it is not a model but the ship itself. I need info on that ship. It was a slave ship belonging to the Collins family."

"Can't you ask Barnabas? No, of course not. Going over the records of his family's slave trading activity might send him round the bed. One more thing to feel guilty about... But if it is a slave ship, that might explain why Tammy. Selling a nigger to get what they want..."

"Will you look into it?"

"Yes. I'll put Joe to help me... Damn it, my best operative for this kind of research is Tammy...well, I can do it. I will do it all night, and early in the morning Joe will take over. "

He hung up, and not too long afterwards there was a call for him. It was Barnabas.

"I interrogated both of them. It was hard, because their minds were not free. They seemed to be caught is some sort of power. But I got something."

"What was it? Did they admit having done it?"

"Delia actually bragged of it. As to where they are, all we got is that we will never find them. When I mentioned that they might starve to death or die from exposure, I got the impression that it was very unlikely to happen. Only that they in a place we cannot get to. No place on Earth."

"Sebastian gave me a lead as to where that might be." No need to mention slave ships. Not yet.

"Tell me, the whip that you found in Delia's. Is it long, black, of braided leather?"

"Yes."

"I know where she got it from. The one I had in Wyncliffe disappeared."

"Do you use whips in Wyncliffe? What kind of place you run there, anyway?"

"It was for a special case. For the original trouble with Zeb. I had to make Julia beat me with it before she could let go and cry."

"And this magic whip drank your blood. Vampire blood. And then Delia used it Derek. Another dose of vampire blood... No wonder it has such power.. Well, I am locking it up and starving it."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Carolyn tore the sheet of paper with irritation. Why did she find it difficult to write to her mother? She had meant to tell her that things were all right now and that she should come home. Instead, hateful words formed themselves on the paper.

There had to be away of doing it. A way to write a letter that would allow their broken relationship to mend.

Why couldn't she write how much she missed her, how much she realized now that she loved her? Why did the old hurt insist on coming through?

The arrival of Barnabas was a welcome relief to her worry.

"I am still uneasy about coming here "Barnabas confessed "I feel that there is something in these rooms that doesn't want me."

"Like me?" there was a slight edge in Carolyn's voice.

"No. Just memories. I saw this place being built. I put many of my hopes in it. And the came to nothing."

"Many of my own dreams came to nothing, too."

"I know they did. If it is any consolation, Dr, Anderson hated doing what he did."

"Yes, they hated it. But they did it anyway." Carolyn still felt bitter about her forced sterilization.

"Roxanne did not give us many choices. It was that or kill you."

"I can understand why you chose this. I can even understand why Roxanne would do it. Probably I would have done the same in her position. But still I can't forgive her. Maybe I am a nasty person."

"It is not an easy thing to forgive. You are right in feeling hurt."

"Once I would have taken it on Quentin or Nicholas. But now... now know it doesn't help."

"Where's Quentin, by the way?"

"Tomcatting somewhere. I do not care how he spends his time. I might even grant him a divorce. I don't think that he'd want custody of Edmund. If he tried, he might get it, and what would he do, then? And it is no fun getting on his nerves anymore."

"It never is."

"No it isn't But for a while it seems that it is. Specially if you are hurting real bad.."

"Yes. I know." Barnabas sighed, remembering too much. "you are hurting and it seems so unfair that you are the only one who does. You want someone else to hurt, too. Misery loves company, as they say."

"I feel sorry for Quentin, now."

"So do I. Can you believe that once I envied him?"

"Yes." Carolyn poured herself a glass of brandy "and you know what? He envies you. You are all he wants to be and can't"

"Yes." Barnabas nodded. "I got self-respect, a sense of purpose, good friends. Yes. I have been blessed, even if it took me a time to realize it. :Poor Quentin."

"Yes. Poor Quentin."

"How's Edmund doing?"

"Studying" Carolyn's face softened. "But now Miss Oates is going easy on him, and I check on it, instead of trusting her implicitly as I used to do." She smiled, a bit embarrassed. "I realize now what a rotten thing I did to you, taking him for myself. Still, he is the best thing that happened to me."

"You have been good for him. I could have never given him a good home."

Carolyn nodded. Still it surprised him not to see her gleefully pounce on his words in search of anything that would hurt him. He had gotten so used to her sarcasm that he had forgotten about the way she used to be in the past, when the fire was there, but tempered with concern and affection.

The way she used to be. The way she could be again.

He'd rather not pursue that line of thought., for it led him back to the way _he_ used to be, when he had bitten Carolyn and forced her to help in his attempts to murder Julia.

She had less to live down than he had.

They talked a bit more, Barnabas finally coming to the point.

"Carolyn, you did not ask me in here just to talk. There is something that you want to ask of me."

She nodded. "Yes. You told me once that I could make it so that people forgot the... the way I used to be."

"It told you before, that if I can do it, you certainly can."

"I have started to believe it myself."

"That's the spirit." he said encouragingly.

"Yep. Win one for the Gipper."

"The Gipper?" Barnabas made a face "I don't want to be reminded that he's our President now."

"And I'd rather not start an argument over it."

"No. There would be no point to it. What is really bothering you?'

"I have tried to write to Mother, but.."

"But it is not as easy as you thought it would be."

"She writes to you, doesn't she?"

"Yes. She does."

"What does she tell you? Is she happy?"

"She sounds that way."

Carolyn shrugged. "So, at least she is happy. I should not begrudge her that. She had such rotten luck with father."

"Yes. It was rotten. But still, your father loved you. He died trying to protect you."

"Almost too late he remembered me."

"Are you angry with him, too?"

"In a way I am. Also with my mother and with Adam. And you and everybody else. But most of it is gone now."

"Good."

"So how come I can't write to her still?"

"Maybe you are trying too hard."

* * *

Worry gnawed at George in the morning. Where was Derek... He did not want to believe that Derek was dead... But a vampire caught outside of his coffin by dawn was dead meat. Or worse, if you went by what Roxanne Drew had told them.

But he could be alive... somehow. Alive and in distress. He did not know where the belief came from...

Barnabas had been missing too, and given up for dead. Had the same thing happened to Derek? Was he chained inside a coffin somewhere?

He remembered that Trask had taken care of erasing the marks on the throats of the women Barnabas fed on, to make everyone believe he was dead...

Curt Kingsley! He was still sick, wasn't he?

Kingsley could lead them to Derek...

He had to see Kingsley. ..

* * *

Kingsley was sweating profusely when George entered the room. He was sick, all right. And he could see the marks on the man's throat.

Derek _was_ alive. In distress, but alive. And Kingsley would lead them to him.

"What do you want, sheriff?' Kingsley said dispiritedly. He had fought one more night, and won... but for how much longer?

"He has been calling you, hasn't he?' George decided that bluntness was best.

Kingsley stared at him. What did he mean...did he know?"

"I have some idea of what you are going through. There is a solution to it."

Kingsley shook. "He's been calling me, two nights in a row. I can feel the pull them. I can barely resist him."

"But you managed, up to now. You have not gone to him." George managed no to sound sarcastic. If the man believed he was in danger this was not the time to disabuse him.

He had to admit that it was an amusing spectacle, and FBI man weeping openly and acting scared.

"I can help you. Do you have any idea of where he might be?"

"I have these flashes of a cave."

"A cave. Well, that would explain how Derek had survived the sunlight."

"Can you find the way there?"

"No...no.."

":You have to. How else can I help you?"

"He's... he's there."

"I know what to do with him. Just show me the way." he put his hand on Kingsley's shoulder " everything is going to be all right. But we have to find him first. There are hundreds of caves. The only one we can find the right one is if you lead us to it. But we will protect you. You will be safe. We will take care of him..."

Kingsley sat down shivering. He had to be brave once more... lead them to the...creature that had such power over him."

"You show me where he is and I will do the rest."

"You will?"

"Of course, I will." George exuded confidence.

"I could not tell anyone about it."

"Yes, I understand how it is." George smiled lopsidedly "I've got some experience on the subject."

"You do?"

"Yes." he could not resist adding the rest. "Just because I am a backwoods sheriff does not mean that I am an idiot."

"I never thought you were."

Silently George promised himself to give Derek a raise for the excellent job he had done on Kingsley. After he found him, of course."

"I will need a few things to take care of the problem. And we need to wait until dark, because that's when he calls you, right?"

"Yes. During the day, it is kind of muted."

"Good. You may want the hospitality of my office. I'd rather know at all times where you are. I don't want you bolting or going off on your own."

Once Kingsley was made as comfortable as possible in a cell - because the possibility of bolting was quite likely - he went back to Derek's' room, this time without an argument with the landlady, and secured a supply of dried blood. Derek might be quite hungry and while he did not as a rule attack people, he was not famished as a rule, either.

He wondered how he'd explain it to Kingsley afterwards. Would he get the idea that Derek had attacked him on orders from the sheriff? He might. And there would be no end of trouble that he could make...

Well, that was another problem, which they had to solve. Now they had to find Derek.

Derek might be hurt, and there might be either a wooden stake or a silver bullet to get out of him. And for this he needed a doctor. He had to find one willing to operate.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Quentin drank another brandy. Too early in the day to get drunk. It was always too early in the day to get drunk... but then the sooner he got drunk, the easier the rest of the day would be,

Dear wife Carolyn. Dear Uncle Roger. Dear son Edmund... dear family, which he wished could get lost at a moment's notice.

And dear Carl.

Why did Carl have to come after him? Why not go after Barnabas? After all, Barnabas had been the one who did the killing.

Would Carl forgive him if...?

Barnabas had been the killer. He had only been the betrayer. If he now betrayed Barnabas and killed him, would Carl be content and let him escape Collinwood?

* * *

Sandy Miller was in his office, emanating hostility from every pore.

"I have come to claim _my _children "she said "and no one should keep me away from them."

"I understand and sympathize. I myself have recommended it. There is this idiot in charge of things and I can't move him."

"You don't think I should have them?" she said, not having listened to him.

"I think that you should."

"You think that since I abandoned them to go with Chris I should not have them."

"I understand that it was your husband who forced you to leave before you ever considered Chris in that light."

"You wanted me to go with Chris."

"I didn't"

"Don't lie, you did."

George sighed. Whatever he said, Sandy was not willing to listen. She felt guilty about leaving her children. It was not even the delay in being officially declared the legal guardian of her children (although the guy in charge would improve his efficiency if kicked in the ass hard enough). It was her desire to get rid of guilt by any means.

"I will try to speed up the paperwork" he said wearily.

* * *

Angelique concentrated, her hands on Sebastian's temples. Sebastian held the _Peggy Green_, his eyes closed, letting the impressions flow into him, but then into Angelique without entering his consciousness. She waned him protected from all the negative emotions and energy flowing out of the ship. And she directed those thoughts and consciousness to a blank slate of paper which began writing itself. Who laid this spell? Why was it laid? How can it be lifted? She made her concentrate on those points and no other. For she had to protect herself, as she was protecting Sebastian. A slave ship collected nothing but negative emotions and energy, and when it came out it could destroy anyone who stood to close to it.

* * *

Quentin had to take a few drinks to give himself courage for what he was about to do. In spite of the falling out of recent years he and Barnabas had been friends once.

But it meant freedom for him...

He would not hurt Barnabas. He would make it quick. He owed him that much.

He knew what he was about to do... but he had done worse, hadn't he? He had killed his wife, help murder his brother, seduced, lied, cheated. One more crime would not matter... And Barnabas was not human, anyway.

And he would be free.

It would not be murder but an execution...

Urien was on the beach, reading. He had seen him with that goofy smile that betrayed his amazement that he finally was able to make sense of the dark spots on the white paper.

So Urien was out. And while he had locked the door, the lock was not unpickable. Not for someone of his experience.

And indeed, it wasn't

He went in, found the coffin, and opened the lid.

"Sorry pal," he said "but better you than me."

He placed the stake on the chest. He felt the heart beat slowly, barely noticeable.

He would stop it. One blow and it would be over. He would have earned his freedom.

He lifted the mallet and prepared himself for the blow. He closed his eyes and struck.

Barnabas screamed.

Quentin opened his eyes, enough to see the blood stream out of Barnabas' mouth, from his nose and ears... he could not watch it anymore. He ran, not noticing the whimpering sound that Barnabas was making.

* * *

Julia studied Peter. The child was more relaxed now, but would not talk of what he had seen or experienced. Julia understood why he would not.

"Don't be afraid, Peter." she said soothingly "no one will hurt you."

Peter whimpered.

She stroked his forehead, and he jumped away "There is nothing to be afraid of. No one will hurt you. Your mother will not come here. Delia will not come here."

The shudder than ran through Peter at the mention of either of them made Julia shudder. She had seen quite a few cases of abused children and abusive parents. But up to now she could feel some sort of love between the parent and the child, no matter how it had become twisted. He doubted that there was any love between Peter and Violet. Their relationship, pathological already before they came to Collinsport, had deteriorated to the point where Violet could turn Peter to Delia to play games with.

She patted the boy's cheek. But the child was not being accustomed to such display of affections, she reminded herself again. For him, an affectionate gesture could, in the flicker of an eye, become another painful punishment.

She wondered if she could reach him. He seemed too far gone trust anyone, specially a woman.

Maybe she should turn him over to Barnabas, when he came back.

"It is all right, Peter." she repeated. I understand. You are a good boy.

Peter relaxed. A god boy. Those were the magic words. The ones that let him know that they were content and that there would be no more pain.

* * *

It was late when Urien came back. He knew it was, and felt a bit guilty about it, even if Barnabas had not set any time limits to his absence.

Barnabas would understand. He might even be pleased, since he had spent most of his time reading (even if he would not agree with his choice of reading material).

He decided to do his work as quickly as possible so that Barnabas would not notice he had been in late.

It was quite dark before he realized that Barnabas was not about.

Curious as to the reason for the delay, he opened the door behind the library and looked inside.

Barnabas laid in his coffin, covered with blood, a stake protruding from his chest.

Urien stared in horror. They had killed him... nausea filled him watching all that blood... Barnabas who had been so gentle and patient with him...

They had murdered him while he was at the beach.

He realized what would happen. They would think that he had done it. Brant would take revenge for his murdered lover... He did not want Brant to put the cuffs on him again...

He whimpered. He wept. Barnabas did not deserve to be killed like this.

He had to run away as fast as he could. He knew where there was money in then Old House and went to get it, along with his things.

It could not have lasted. Nothing good lasted for him. Why had he told himself that it could? He belonged behind bars, in dark alleys, turning tricks... that was his fate and he would never escape it. Why had he allowed Barnabas to tell him otherwise? Barnabas had only been a dreamer...


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

George went to the Old House, wondering why it too Barnabas so long to come see him. They had to see Angelique and Sebastian to see what they had found.

He saw Urien running from the house. What was wrong? He came in. Whatever had made Urien run like that deserved investigation.

...Barnabas... he could not be.. not this way... Why now?

Urien had done this... After all that Barnabas had done for him, he had paid back with a stake. Struck him while he was helpless.

"I should have handled the little creep. Instead I talked Barnabas into taking him in..."

He moved towards Barnabas. He had to touch him, had to be close to him, somehow. His eyes stung... it was hard to see now with the tears in his eyes. He would never see Barnabas again, would never hold him in his arms again.

Then he heard it. A whimpering.

It could not be... Barnabas could not make a sound... but he was whimpering.

He bent over the body and he saw. Under the blood, the eyelids flickered.

He grabbed the stake and pulled. Dumb kid. He had missed the heart after all. Came terribly close, though. Just like Herbert's bullet had done to Derek. Probably even closer, not letting Barnabas even send a distress signal to anyone he had contact with.

The stake came off free. George threw it away as far as he could, then bent over Barnabas again. If any splinters had come off, he'd have to ask Kenneth for help.

But there seemed to be no need. Barnabas' expression had changed. He pulled himself up and was out of the coffin. Except for the blood covering him he seemed back to normal.

"Thanks." he said There was a gleam in his eye. A very hungry gleam. He had lost a great deal of blood and needed to put some of it back.

George understood his need. He opened his collar and pushed Barnabas against his chest, holding him close as he drank.

Minutes later Barnabas stepped back. Had he taken too much? He had felt desperate when he started.

"I'll take you to the hospital."

"I am fine. And we have work to do." George staggered back.

Barnabas caught him. "You are going to the hospital. You don't mend as quickly as I do." he took George to the car.

"You plan to drive this? It is an official vehicle." George still protested. he did not mean to. But between his pain at finding Barnabas seemingly dead, his relief at finding him alive, and the loss of blood, he felt too giddy to say something intelligent.

"Let's go there. for my peace of mind. How do you think I'd feel if anything happened to you."

George was silent for a few minutes, then, calmer, he spoke. "We are going to get the little creep. And this time we are going to lock him up and throw away the key."

"Who?"

"Urien. He did to kill you, didn't he?"

"He didn't"

"Who did?"

"I don't know. I was unconscious then."

"So how come you know it wasn't Urien?"

"I saw his face when he saw me. It was dark. I had been staked in daytime. If he had done so, he'd have run away already. He looked at me, and he was horrified. He looked as if he was going to throw up. He didn't enjoy seeing me like that."

"But why run away?"

"He was afraid of being blamed. And you did blame him, didn't you? You have to find him and bring him back. Tell him that we know that he didn't do it. That I am alive and well.

"We'll find him."

* * *

George had recovered enough by the time Angelique and Sebastian showed up. Barnabas wondered why he had so many misgivings about Sebastian, who after all, was helping them.

Maybe it was tied up to his guilt over Roxanne. Maybe what he sensed was a false relationship with Angelique, he taking her up because he could not have Roxanne, she taking him up because Megan would not have a permanent relationship with her..

But, he reminded himself again, it was none of his business. It did not matter who Angelique picked, as long as it wasn't him.

"Sebastian" he said "can you tell us who handled this s stake" He extended the bloody piece of wood that George had pulled out of him.

Sebastian took it. "It has been handled by three people. One is you."

"Of course."

"The other is Sheriff Brant."

"And the third?" he was sure it would not be Urien, but had to hear it.

"Quentin Collins."

"Quentin, of course... Nothing he does should surprise me." Barnabas muttered.

"We'll handle Quentin later. What did your find about the _Peggy Green_?"

"There was a spell cast on it. A curse laid by one of the slaves in the hold as it died. It cursed it to never reach port, to always sail the seas with nowhere to go, never able to rest, until released by someone with the authority do to so."

"Authority?"

"Their employer. Only their employer can dismiss them." Angelique said.

"But the Collins fleet no longer employs them. There are no slave ships on its fleet."

"And it can never reach port in Maine... Or rather it reached port, as a toy. It cannot dock and be greeted by an employer which will pay them their wages and dismiss them."

"And the slaves?"

"Not until the ship docks can their chains be struck down. But only by the owner of the ship. By the Collins who owns the ship."

* * *

Urien could nor run anymore. He felt out of breath and dizzy. He was probably running in circles.

He was lost, tired, hungry. And soon they would catch him.

Barnabas was dead... he had to be, with that thing sticking in his chest. A stake through the heart, that would do it.

But who could hate Barnabas that much?

Maybe it was his fault. He had brought bad luck with him. He was not made to be happy, to have it easy. He had been happy with Barnabas, so that could not last.

He sobbed again, remembering how Barnabas had lied in his own blood... how could that happen? Why?

He saw the light ahead of him. For a moment he wondered if it was Brant looking for him. But he might not be. It nothing else, following the light might help him get out of the woods and know in which direction he was going.

He followed it, seeing that it led to a house. Maybe he could find food there, money... a way to get out.

He came to the window and spied a man with hooks where hands should be.

"Come in, young ma." Nicholas said "I have been waiting for you."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Come in." Nicholas repeated "I know that you are there. I have been waiting for you, Urien Yost."

Urien felt himself pulled towards the house. "How do you know me?"

"I know many things, like I know that you will be very useful to me." he put his hand on Urien's shoulder. "You will need a new protector, Urien, now that Barnabas is dead. Come, let me look at you."

The hook that served as hand held him firmly, just as Barnabas' hands. But it did not feel the same. There was a sense of menace, of cruelty, that he had never felt around Barnabas.

"Yes. Urien. You are going to be quite useful to me. You don't know how much yet."

* * *

"Do you want me to come with you?" George asked Barnabas.

Barnabas shook his head. "It is better that I do this alone. It might be dangerous for you. Simon Garth, the captain, will respect Barnabas Collins, the grandson of his employer."

"You should have some sort of protection."

"I am the best protection. I am the one who can release him and the others from their endless journey. They will respect me. While anyone else who butts in may be in danger."

"Still..."

"I hold true authority over them. And authority does not seek protection from those it commands."

"But..."

But if you want to be useful, go talk to Quentin, and tell him that trying to kill me is a _very_ bad idea."

* * *

Urien lay on the bed. His eyes were closed, his muscles relaxed, his mind clear of thoughts and feelings.

Nicholas kept his hook over the forehead and hummed to him. They had thought him to be helpless after he had lost his hands. He'd probably be drowning himself in alcohol, anyway. but hatred has a strength of its own. He had come back and this time he would not be cheated of his revenge.

And this boy may well be the key to it.

"Sleep well, Urien Yost. Sleep well, for you are useless to me awake, but very useful in your sleep."

* * *

He was ready. He knew what he would say, what needed to be said.

There were dark thoughts eating at the back of his mind. Later. He'd do what he had to do, get the two women back, let Garth and his men, as well as the slaves they carried rest at last.

His opinions, his feelings, his anguish over this business could wait.

Priscilla and Ruby had taught him well. His own pain and suffering did not help. Action to help the victims did. And he would engage in action.

Pain and suffering could wait. Deciding how much was he to blame for the family business could wait.

"_t could wait., _ he reminded himself and faced the water.

"Simon Garth!" he called "Captain of the _Peggy Green_! I, Barnabas Collins, master of the Collins shipyard, heir to the fleet, your master, will talk to you.

He waited but no response came.

"I am Joshua Collins' son. Nehemiah Collins' grandson. Nehemiah's heir by right! As your master, as your employer, I demand to see you! It is my right to see you! Obey my commands, Simon Garth! Come to me this instant.!"

There was a rumble at his feet.

"Come Simon Garth! For how long will your deny me, your rightful master? Show yourself to me!"

There was a brief flash of lighting. A sense of there being an explosion, a silent one... and it all changed.

He was now on the docks and the _Peggy Green_ loomed large before him. A ship like the ones he had seen as a boy, the ones he admired before he knew what their cargo was...

"Mr. Collins" Garth spoke deferentially to him.

"It has been a long voyage Garth. You were given as lost."

"We delayed more than we wished." Garth spoke wistfully, and Barnabas recognized the bitterness. "Far longer than we wished."

"Why were you delayed?" he spoke, still the stern master.

"One of the niggers we brought in. We did not know it, but he was a witch, what they called a witch. He died on the hold and we threw his body overboard. That same night he came back and told us that we would sail forever without reaching port until our employer released us, while condemning the trade we engaged in. He said that a child of each one of the crew would die as punishment, for all the children we had taken from parents. He said that the owner of the ship would know in his own flesh the pain that his greed caused in others. And until the owner repented we could not be released."

And their victims would be released too. It seemed unfair that the innocent would suffer with the guilty, but maybe that was the best that that witch doctor could do.

"Simon Garth. The day of your freedom is come. You are to be released from my service."

"Our wages have to be paid."

"I will gather them, not a penny more, more a penny less."

"But you cannot pay them, because you are not our true master."

"Not your true master?"

"Are you the Master of Collinwood? Do your run the family business? Do you receive its profits? Unless that is true, you cannot deliver us."

* * *

Quentin was reading, while Carolyn was studying documents. Roger played with Edmund upstairs. No one wanted to talk to him. They all considered faithless and a traitor.

Life was so unfair...

That was when the stake landed at his feet.

"Is that yours?" George asked with cold fury.

Carolyn looked up at him. "What does this mean?"

"Quentin tried to kill Barnabas. and now Urien Yost ran away because he thought he'd be blamed. He better show up in one piece or Barnabas will take you apart and I will not interfere."

"But Barnabas..." Quentin tried to protest.

"Don't bother lying." George caught Quentin by he lapels and shook him, "You don't lie well. And remember, you cannot get killed, but you cannot get hurt. And I _can_ hurt you. You'll recover, and there will be no scars, except on your portrait, but you will not forget then pain easily."

"I had to." Quentin tried to explain "It is his fault, too. It was him who killed Carl."

George dropped Quentin. "Carl?"

"Carl can't touch him." Quentin whined "but he can go after me. He showed me the guillotine, where they put Barnabas."

George stepped back a bit chastened. "Carl threatened to do the same to you?"

Quentin should have stopped there, but he could not help talking too much. "Only if I tried to leave Collinwood and Carolyn."

Carolyn laughed "So that's why you came back! I though that all that story of looking into your heart and doing what was best for Edmund was fishy."

"He said that I had to be a good husband to Carolyn. I wanted to be free."

Carolyn snorted. "What good being free ever did you?" Am I so unbearable that you are willing to buy your freedom with Barnabas' life?"

Quentin shrugged "Barnabas was quite willing to buy his safety with Carl's life."

"So were you.": George reminded him.

"But why can't Carl go after Barnabas?"

"He already did. And Barnabas paid the price. And he was not offered your choice. He'd have loved to have the choice himself."

"I don't want to end up there." Quentin whined again. "Call me a coward, call me a traitor, but I want to be free of Carl."

George grinned. "Be a good husband to Carolyn and everything will be fine. And don't try this again, or I'll get you. "

* * *

His failure stung him. He could not command Simon Garth. He was master by right of inheritance, but the business had gone to other hands... Carolyn's

Could Carolyn command Garth? No, she could not. There was no slave trading fleet in the business that Carolyn inherited. She commanded no sea captains like Garth, did not pay their wages.

Could never release them..

He realized that his steps had taken her to that painter who always stood all alone, the one who stuck him as desolate.

Why was she painting at this hour, with a lamp for only illumination? Why did she need to go out into the darkness to paint?

He approached her, and was struck by the way her shoulders slumped, by the way her head was bent, but the sob that escaped her through clenched teeth..

So much pain.

He looked at the canvas. Dark colors splattered with red. and in between two light colors, a light blue, and white. But those light colors did not illuminate the picture. The red that splattered them blended them to darkness..

"It looks pretty" he ventured.

"Pretty?" she snorted "It is not meant to be pretty."

There was a face under the red spots. Not a pleasant face.

"You hate him." he said.

"My, aren't you perceptive? But you like him. He is your ally. He helps fight Communists."

"Where are you from? he asked her."

"Argentina. why?"

He remembered what Amnesty International had to say about then place.

"That's Videla inst' he?"

"A staunch anti-Communist ally, isn't he?" she sobbed. "Thanks to him I no loner have a country. I no longer have a family. I only have my paints. And my hatred."

Barnabas was silent, understanding what she meant.

"Who was it? Who did they take away from you?

"My son. My daughter. I am the only one left of my family."

Instinctively, Barnabas put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her."

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, pulling away.

"I did not mean any harm."

"If you want blood take it. But do not touch me, Do not try to comfort me. I can't bear to be touched that way. There is no consolation for me."

He nodded. Maybe he's be able to talk to her later on, break thought her shell...

But not now. Now he had to respect her pain, and her desire to be left alone.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Carolyn did not get mad at what he asked, but neither was she overjoyed.

"Are you sure that it has to be this way?"

"I need to claim full authority. I have half, and you have half. I have to make it so I control you, so I am in full control and authority."

"I could deal with Garth myself"

"No."

"Because I am a woman?"

"Because slave ships are not on your fleet. You command no such ships. You inherited no such ships. I am the last one of the Collins line that can claim ownership of such ships... They were gone by the time Daniel inherited. It has to be me."

"I see." she opened her collar. "how will you explain that I run it and you don't?"

"You area my deputy. You do as you are told. He can understand such logic. I can claim new laws that make it necessary. Or not. As long as he can see my control of you, it will work."

"What guarantee do I have that once you bite me you won't have me sign a paper transferring my property to you?"

He was hurt "Have I ever done something like that?"

"No. Never mind. It was my attempt at being funny. Go ahead. Just be careful not to stain my clothes. They are of very good quality."

* * *

While Barnabas handled Garth, it was up to George to stop Quentin from trying to use the stake again. Anyone else, he could intimidate with just his gun and his badge. Quentin was a tougher proposition, as he was more afraid of what Carl Collins might do to him than of any power a sheriff might have.

There had to be something scarier than Carl. And who could to a point protect Quentin from Carl.

Magda Rakosi. She had been friends with Barnabas. She had never hated him. Apart from early threats to kill Sandor - which where quickly forgotten - their relationship had been cordial. The worst he had done to him was to threaten to send him to jail for a forgery he had committed - and he _was_ guilty of it. Magda had grumbled a lot working for Barnabas, but would never forget that it had been his kindness that had allowed her to see his sister Jenny again.

Magda could threaten Quentin

* * *

The taste of blood was still in his mouth when he went to the beach again.

He had not bitten Carolyn very often in the past. She was too much like a daughter to him and he was unwilling to use her that way. Then, for the last ten years she had been very angry at him and he avoided her, waiting for the time when her fury was spent.

He turned his mind away from Carolyn and towards what he had to do.

He had with him the wages as he had calculated them, in gold (which he was to return after he was done). And his full authority.

"Simon Garth!" he called. "I have authority over you! I command you to appear!"

It was the same sense of swelling than before, the same silent explosion, and the_ Peggy Green_ was a big ship again and he was on the dock.

"Do you have full authority?" Garth did not seem defiant. He seemed hopeful.

"I own Collinwood by right of conquest and inheritance. Carolyn Collins bends to my will, and labors for me! She is my servant, as much as you are!"

"But you don't live at Collinwood!"

"Where I choose to live is not your concern. You forget your place, Captain Garth!"

"The property is in her name."

"The ways of the laws of this age are not your concern. There is a reason to be so, but it is not up to you to question it."

Garth looked down

"I have the authority, Garth!"

Garth said nothing.

"Simon Garth, you have sailed for a long time. You will be sailing far longer unless you obey me. Bend to my authority, Garth, or remain adrift forever."

"I...I obey."

"Bring the cargo down!" he commanded. "The white woman too."

"You know of the white woman?" Garth asked.

"I am your master, Garth. I know."

Garth's faced darkened and mumbled "I had here in my cabin to... to keep me company... not to be lonesome."

Barnabas winced. How long had Garth used Iris? And Tammy? What had she to endure?

"There won't be any more loneliness. No more sailing. No more cargo. Bring her down with all the cargo. And tell your sailors receive their pay for they will be discharged today"

The slaves were made to descend. Technically they were not yet slaves. Just cargo. Barnabas hoped that his face did not betray the dismay he felt when he saw them. They had been whipped and abused during their long trip. They were filthy and their eyes were empty.

"Fine merchandise, sir" Garth said, pointing to them. "Should fetch good prices."

Tammy was there, chained, half naked, and with whip marks on her back.

"Indeed they should" Barnabas managed to say calmly to Garth." You have done well in this trip."

They brought Iris forward. She seemed dazed and afraid.

Barnabas wanted to pummel Garth, to hurt him as he had hurt Tammy and Iris. He did not. There was to be a ritual in their responses to each other and a physical attack was not part of it, not even expressing disapproval at Garth for doing his job.

"You shall be paid well, Garth, and so will your men."

The slaves were all lined up on the dock. Tammy was among them, and Iris was not too far from them. The crew was still on the ship.

"Bring your men down. that they may receive their wages."

They stood in line, patiently as he gave to each one of them the gold that Geroge had borrowed for the occasion.

The sailors took their wages and walked away.

Iris gasped. For no sooner had the men walked away that they collapsed into dust, with only the gold left behind.

The men did not seem to notice this, or if the did, they did not seem distressed by it. They kept extending their hands meekly for their wages and meekly walked away to their dissolution.

Finally only Garth remained.

"You have served me and my family well, Simon Garth. But now it must end. Take your pay and go in peace.

Garth took the gold and walked away, a smile on his face.

They were all gone now. Only the dust and gold remained.

Barnabas went to the slaves. He struck out their chains, one by one. The slaves nodded slightly as he did so, then turned away as he told them to go in peace. Then they collapsed into dust.

Only Tammy and Iris remained now. He wondered for a moment if they too would turn to dust. But no, there was o reason for them to do so.

Tammy looked at him with horror as he broke her chains. "He worked for you." she said "you were the one who paid his wages."

Barnabas nodded. "He was lost before he was born. My grandfather paid his wages. But I paid similar wages to similar men."

"And you just spent the money" Tammy was harsher now. "Did you know what the hold was like? Body stacked against body, in our own filth. I was whipped a couple of times to keep me quiet. That was the only time I could stand upright... And the smell... And...

"It is enough." Iris said. "don't blame him. He's the one who got us out."

"Sure" Tammy was hysterical now. "you can say that because you were not cargo, like I was. You had it easy."

Iris became paler than she was already "It wasn't easy... they... he.."

Barnabas held her. "It is over. They won't come back."

"They worked for you. All the time. It was for your sake that they did it."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Iris had recovered somewhat from her ordeal, and was able to talk to him. Tammy was not. She turned her face away when she saw him.

George knew what had happened to them. He wondered if he wanted to know the rest, to come in contact, however briefly, with the diseased minds of Delia and Violet. Specially since he could be with Angelique as she contacted Magda and Jenny.

But, no job is complete until the paperwork is done. And this time it was no exception.

"It was Delia and your sister who did this to you?" Dumb question, he knew it. It is not as if he was going to arrest them. They would stay in Wyncliffe for a long time. Until Julia Hoffman decided it was safe to release them into the general population.

"Yes. It was them." Iris spoke ":both of them. They kept me tied up. They tied to get me in the ship. I saw how they had Peter terrified. Poor child. He did not dare move a finger without permission. The first time they tried to get me in the ship the captain would not take me." she shivered. "I was the wrong color."

"So they went after Tammy as a payment to take you away?"

"Yes."

He turned to Tammy "Do you wish to add anything?"

Tammy shook her head in silence. Still George kept talking to her. "It was Delia who kidnapped you in your apartment. She impersonated you to make us look for you in the wrong places. Then she and Delia took you away in a laundry truck.

"Then they sold me." Tammy spat out. "to the captain of a ship owned by the Collins family."

The was concentrated venom in the way she spoke the word 'Collins'.

"Then we were taken aboard. She was sent to the hold." Iris said, "at least that's what I heard." her voice flattened. "they sent me to the captain's cabin."

"Sure, you were white and they don't put whites with the cargo."

"If the _Peggy Green_ had reached a port in Barbary I would have been sold to. But they could not reach any port, anywhere. They knew that, but still had to go through the motions, making believe as is they could. They tried to get someone to release them. They used the whip and the ship itself to attract someone who could free them. But all they could attract was Delia who did not care to release them. She did not understand them. Or did not care to understand... And Simon Garth was lonely and tired of dark meat in his bed... so... he took me..." she broke sobbing.

George nodded. All he could say was that it was over, that Simon Garth would not return, ever. She was hurt, as Tammy was. It would be a while until their wounds would close, if they ever did.

He knew that he could not reach them. Maybe Barnabas could. Between Tammy's rage and Iris' apparent control, the question was who would break first.

He felt terribly inadequate, face to such tragedy.

It was not his job to help them. His job was to keep order, to keep the laws, and to prevent such things from happening. And to arrest those responsible.

It was not enough.

* * *

Quentin finished his drink. They were all making a big fuss about it. And it was unfair. He was the one getting the short end of the stick, while Barnabas always came up a winner. Why shouldn't things be different for a change?

He swallowed more of his drink. The brandy was good. Carolyn kept a good liquor cabinet. Maybe that made staying with her more bearable...

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the liquor, then opened them again...

This was not Collinwood's drawing room... This was not like any room in Collinwood...

It was dark and the wind outside sounded like laughter.

"Carl!" he shouted "I tried! I did try to kill him!"

The laughter rose, Quentin ran away from it. He found a door and escaped into a room identical to the one he had left.

"Run, Quentin." the voice followed him "see how much good it does you!"

There was another door. He opened it. It was another identical room. And another door. And another room, And another door...

His hand was on this last doorknob. What was the use? He knew what was at the other side.

Then blood ran from under the door, staining his shoes.

He screamed and jumped away. And this time the door opened by itself.

Not an identical room this time. There was a guillotine in it.

"No, Carl!" he screamed "I did try to kill him! I am sorry that I missed his heart! But he was all covered with blood! He looked dead!"

There was a figure next to the guillotine and it moved towards him.

"Magda!"

"Yes. Magda" she said " You don't look so brave, now, eh? So dashing."

"What do you want from me? Don't you have enough already? Haven't I paid for what I did to your sister?" Quentin felt himself go to his knees.

Magda put her hands on her hips "You tried to kill Barnabas and that won't do."

"I had to! Carl made me!"

"Carl only wants you to stay with Carolyn. And what Carl can do, I can do worse. So don't touch Barnabas again, all right?"

"But Carl..."

Magda spat. "Don't worry about Carl. He won't touch you. Not for missing Barnabas' heart. Killing Barnabas won't make any difference between him and you. Go away Quentin Collins and stop making a nuisance of yourself."

* * *

Barnabas reread the list that Megan had given him. "Now it will not hurt to know the truth of it." she had said to him. "and maybe it will help you'll"

The names of the sailors on the _Peggy Green_. Simon Garth, Jeb Gunston, Nathan Rumsen, William McGuire, John Tate, Isaiah Browning, Stepan Romano, James Graham, Caleb Woodard, Henry Cabot., Amos Trask., Jeroboam Wilkins...

The same last name of all his victims. For Suki's maiden name had been Garth. And Stepan Roman must be the ancestor of Ishtvan.

And Carl Collins was the descendant of the owner...

Simon Garth had said that the original curse doomed to death one descendant of the sailors. And for each of the sailors, one descendant had died.

By his hand.,...

No one whose name was not in the list had died. Not in this band of reality - for Parallel Time had its own rules. And the sheriff in 1985 would not die, as the future in which he died would not exist... He had killed Jason McGuire and Dave Woodard, whose ancestors were sailors on the _Peggy Green_. Deranged as he was he had not killed Maggie, nor Willie - though his hunger when released from his coffin had been great. He had not killed Julia. He had not killed Burke Devlin. Nor Sheriff Patterson... Only those two...

No one who did not share in in that ceturies old curse he had killed.

He had been an instrument of the curse from the start. He had to be present when the ship was discovered, because as the last Collins to own the slave trading fleet, only he had the authority to release them. So he had to be kept alive until that happened. The vampire curse made it possible. And that's why all his cures had been temporary. He _had_ to be what he was so that he'd last long enough.

Even his imprisonment in the chained coffin was part of it. For he had tasted firsthand what the hold had been like for the slaves...

The slaves whose sale made the Collins family rich...

It made sense. It had to be that way... Even the destruction of his family... he had to endure in his own flesh the pain of families torn apart, of families destroyed by the trade...

He had suffered what his family made black men and women suffer.

He did not even have the right to bemoan his fate. It was richly deserved.

Tammy had been right. He had been drinking blood long before he had grown fangs. And he had been made to pay for it.

And now...?

He heard George come up behind him.

"Tammy had to go to Wyncliffe. She became non responsive, would not talk, would not respond."

Barnabas sighed "Does not surpise me. Slavery and the slave trade are for blacks what the Holocaust is for Jews. The Nightmare, the Basic Horror. And she got to relive it... In a Collins ship. In _my_ ship."

"Iris worries me. She is too rational, too self possessed. It is not natural to be so unaffected. I am afraid that she is going to crash a few days from now. And what will happen then..."

Barnabas nodded. "I wonder..."

"What are you wondering about?"

"If I will be allowed to remain after I carried out the judgement?"

"Judgement?"

"For the slave trading that the Collins family engaged in."

He told George of it. Of the list of the crew and how it matched with the one he carried in his heart.

"You see, it was decided, even before that I was born that one of the descendants should die at my hands. That I would carry the judgement for the crimes of slavery."

"I see."

"So I wonder."

"Barnabss, you are _free_. This is over, and now you need not carry anybody else's agenda. You do not have to fulficll anyone's commands. From now on it is you who chooses. You the one who decides waht to do and not do. No one dictates to you anymore. You are you, and nothing else."

"Unless they decide that my usefulnes over, my life should be."

"Why?"

"My purpose is done."

"This one purpose is done. You have plenty of purposes of your own. Even when you carried out your role of avenging angel, you did also a lot of things that none one asked of you, just because you thought they should be done. Even the worst you did, the terroritzing of Maggie, no one commanded you to do it. It was your choice your decision."

"Yes... but...'

"But tomorrow it will be like today or yesterday. Get up and decidd what to do with yourself. And judge yourself by how well you carry it. You are no longer an avenging angel. You are jutst Barnaaas Collins, no more no less. And you never need be anything more."

"And so it ends..."

"This chapter ends. The next one begins."

* * *

I am taking a hiatus after his installment. For indeed, the story of Barnabas Collins has reached its end. He had finally come to terms with himself and what he is. All that he lost in teh past, his family, his friends, his position in the community, a useful and rewarding trade, he has regained. He again has family, friedns, love, a poistion within the community, and a useful and rewarding trade. His curse remains, but he knows that it cannot keep him from doing what he wishes to do. He had learned to accept the blessings that have been given him. He has confrontd his past, the madness that he suffered - for being locked in the coffin for so long did drive him insane. - the cruelty that was born of his pain. He has remembered the worst of his deeds, and has come to accept them, and tried, as much as it is in his power to offer recompense for it. He has accepted and given forgiveness.

His story is done. Which does not mean that he will disappear. Other people's histories contniue, and he will be a part of them.

In the meantime, I will post in a few days a rationale for some of the choices I made in this story.

The Collinsport Chronicles/ Part 2 will resume by the end of the month.


End file.
